(pJdJi^ 


li 


STUDIES 

m 


HEGELIAN    COSMOLOGY 


CAMBRIDGE    UNIVERSITY    PRESS 
C.  F.  CLAY,  Manager 


LONDON 
Fetter  Lane,  E.G.  4 


EDINBURGH 

100  Princes  Street 


NEW  YORK :   G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

BOMBAY,  CALCUTTA,  MADRAS:    MACMILLAN  AND  CO.,  Ltd. 

TORONTO  :   J.   M.  DENT  AND  SONS,  Ltd. 

TOKYO:   THE  MARUZEN-KABUSKIKI-KAISHA 


STUDIES 

IN 


HEGELIAN  COSMOLOGY 


BY 


JOHN  McTAGGART  ELLIS  McTAGGART, 

LITT.D.    CAMBRIDGE,    LL.B.    ST    ANDREWS, 

FELLOW    AND    LECTURER   OF    TRINITY    COLLEGE    IN    CAMBRIDGE, 

FELLOW    OF    THE    BRITISH    ACADEMY 

AUTHOR  OF  Studies  in  the  Hegelian  Dialectic,  Some  Dogmas 
of  Religion,  A  Commentary  on  Hegel's  Logic. 


CAMBRIDGE : 

AT  THE   UNIVERSITY   PRESS 

1918 


C^  A/3 


First  Edition,  1901 
Second  Edition,  1918 


PREFACE 

/CHAPTERS  V  and  VI  of  this  book  appeared,  nearly  in 
their  present  form,  in  the  International  Journal  of  Ethics. 
(July  1896,  and  July  1897.)  The  other  chapters  have  not 
been  previously  published. 

In  referring  to  Hegel's  works  I  have  used  the  Collected 
Edition,  the  publication  of  which  began  in  1832.  For  purposes 
of  quotation  I  have  generally  availed  myself  of  Wallace's 
translation  of  the  Encyclopaedia,  of  Dyde's  translation  of  the 
Philosophy  of  Law,  and  of  Spiers'  and  Sanderson's  translation 
of  the  Philosophy  of  Religion. 

I  am  much  indebted  to  Mr  G.  L.  Dickinson,  of  King's 
College  in  Cambridge,  and  to  my  wife,  for  their  kindness  in 
reading  this  book  before  its  publication,  and  assisting  me  with 
many  valuable  suggestions. 

The  changes  in  the  second  edition  are  not  numerous.  When 
they  are  more  than  verbal,  I  have  called  attention  to  them  in 
notes. 

J.  E.  McT. 
September,  1917 


r:  O  «>  -  ?  ■-' 

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TABLE   OF   CONTENTS 

CHAPTEK    I 

INTRODUCTION 

PAGE 

1.  Definition  of  Cosmology 1 

2.  Hegel's  attitude  to  Cosmology 2 

3.  The  main  principles  illustrated  in  these  Studies      ...        3 

CHAPTER    II 
HUMAN    IMMORTALITY 


4.  The  problem  of  this  Chapter 4 

5.  Hegel's  own  attitude  towards  Immortahty       ....  5 

6.  Apparently  best  explained  by  his  indifference          ...  5 

7.  The  answer  must  depend  on  the  Absolute  Idea      ...  7 

8.  Two  questions  arise.    Are  we  among  the  fundamental  dififeren- 

tiations  of  the  Absolute?     Is  each  of  these  differentiations 

eternal? 7 

B 

9.  As  to  the  first  of  these  questions, — firstly,  What  is  the  nature 

of  the  fundamental  differentiations  of  the  Absolute  ?       .         .  8 

10.  Let  us  start  from  Hegel's  category  of  Life  ....  9 
IL     The  unity  in  this  category  is  in  the  individuals — but  not  in 

each  separately 10 

12.  Nor  in  the  aggregate  of  them 10 

13.  Nor  in  their  mutual  determination  .         .         .         .         .11 

14.  The  unity  must  be  for  each  of  its  differentiations.     Thus  we 

get  the  category  of  Cognition 13 

15.  This  gives  us  the  relation  we  require       .....  14 


Vlll  TABLE    OF    CONTENTS 

PAGE 

16.  We  cannot  imagine  any  example  of  the  category  of  Cognition, 

except  the  concrete  state  of  cognition.     Dangers  of  this  .  15 

17.  The  validity  of  the  transition  to  Cognition      ....  15 

18.  Summary  of  the  argument  up  to  this  point    ....  17 

19.  Comparison  with  Lotze     .         .         , 17 

20.  Transition  to  the  Absolute  Idea 18 

21.  Nature  of  the  Absolute  Idea 19 

22.  But,  though  the  fundamental  differentiations  of  the  Absolute 

are  now  proved  to  resemble  selves,  it  is  possible  they  may 

not  be  selves,  or  may  not  include  our  selves   .         .         .         .19 

23.  We  must  now  endeavour  to  prove  that  our  selves  have  charac- 

teristics which  they  could  not  have  unless  they  were  funda- 
mental differentiations  of  the  Absolute   .....       20 

24.  No  hne  can  be  drawn  to  separate  the  Self  and  the  Not-Self        .       21 

25.  The  usual  solution  that  the  Self  contains  images  of  an  external 

Not-Self  is  untenable 21 

26.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Self  has  no  content  which  is  not  also 

Nol-Self 22 

27.  The  nature  of  the  Self  is  thus  highly  paradoxical  .         .       23 

28.  It  need  not  therefore  be  false,  but,  if  not,  its  paradoxes  must  be 

shown  to  be  transcended  contradictions  .         .         .         .         .       23 

29.  In  a  system  like  Hegel's  it  cannot  be  taken  as  false      .         .       25 

30.  And  no  demonstration  that  its  paradoxes  are  transcended  con- 

tradictions can  be  found,  except  on  the  hypothesis  that  the 
Self  is  a  fundamental  differentiation  of  the  Absolute       .         .       25 

C 

31.  We  now  turn  to  the  second  question  stated  in  Section  8.     Are 

the  fundamental  differentiations  of  the  Absolute  eternal?       .       26 

32.  Can  the  selves  change  ?   They  are  reproductions  of  the  Absolute      27 

33.  Neither  of  the  two  elements  of  the  Absolute  can  change       .       27 

34.  Even  if  the  selves  could  change,  they  could  not  perish  .       29 

35.  For  the  Absolute  does  not  stand  to  its  manifestations  in  the 

same  relation  as  finite  things  to  their  manifestations  .       30 

36.  Change  is  only  possible  when  reality  is  viewed  imder  categories 

having  something  of  the  nature  of  Essence  in  them         .         .       31 

37.  To  maintain  that  the  Individuals  could  change  while  the  Abso- 

lute remains  the  same  implies  that  we  have  not  transcended 

the  category  of  Matter  and  Form 33 

38.  Our  selves,  no  doubt,  are  not  given  as  changeless,  or  as  in 

perfect  harmony  with  the  universe       .....       34 

39.  But  it  is  as  difficult  for  IdeaUsm  to  deny,  as  to  affirm,  the  per- 

fection and  changelessness  of  the  Self 34 

40.  Selves  can  be  viewed  under  the  Absolute  Idea       ...      35 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS  IX 


41.  Personal  Identity  lies  in  Identity  of  Substance 

42.  Further  explanation  of  this       ...... 

43.  The  theory  that  Personal  Identity  lies  in  Memory 

44.  The  theory  that  Personal  Identity  lies  in  continuity  of  character 

45.  Mx  Bradley's  objection  that  the  Self  is  not  a  sufficiently  adequate 

representation  of  the  Absolute  to  be  Immortal 

46.  This  objection  considered  ....... 

47.  His  objection  that  our  desire  for  Immortality  is  no  argument 

for  Immortality       ........ 

48.  His  objection  that  Immortality  might  not  give  us  that  for 

which  we  desire  it  ....... 

49.  Lotze's  opinion  that  we  have  no  evidence  of  Immortality 
oO.     But  with  Lotze  the  unity  of  the  Absolute  is  more  fundamental 

than  it'^  plurality     ........ 

51.  And  it  is  this,  in  which  he  differs  from  Hegel,  that  is  decisive 

for  his  view  on  Immortality    .         .         .         .         .         . 

52.  Lotze's  objection  to  the  pre-existence  of  the  Self.     Pre-existence 

is  indeed  a  probable  conclusion  from  Immortality    . 

53.  But  why  should  pre-existence  be  regarded  as  unsatisfactory? 

54.  Lives  not  connected  by  memory  would  be  rather  fragmentary 

But  all  life  in  time  is  fragmentary       .... 

55.  And  the  nature  of  each  Hfe  would  be  a  free  development  from 

that  of  the  life  before 

56.  Nor  would  the  change  be  equivalent  to  the  annihilation  of  one 

self  and  creation  of  another     ...... 

57.  And,  in  particular,  the  personal  relations  of  each  life  would 

spring  out  of  those  of  the  life  before 

58.  And  may,  in  many  cases,  be  held  to  be  actually  the  same  relations 
69.     Indeed,  nothing  is  really  lost  by  the  loss  of  memory     . 

60.     Although  it  is  inevitable  that  it  should  appear  to  us  that  some 
thing  is  lost    ......... 


PAOK 

36 
37 
38 
40 

40 
41 

42 

43 
44 

45 

46 

47 

48 

49 

50 

50 

52 
53 
54 

54 


CHAPTER    III 

THE   PERSONALITY   OF   THE    ABSOLUTE 


61.  Hegel's  definition   of   God   makes   God's  existence   a   truism. 

The  important  question  is  whether  God  is  a  person    .         .       56 

62.  Hegel's  God  is  more  conveniently  referred  to  as  the  Absolute    .       58 

63.  Hegel  regards  the  Absolute  as  a  spiritual  unity.    And  spirit  as 

personal.   But  it  does  not  follow  that  he  thought  the  Absolute 
to  be  a  Person.    Nor  do  I  beheve  that  he  did  think  so    .         .58 

a  5 


X  TABLE    OF    CONTENTS 

PAGE 

64.  It  is  not  necessary  that  the  individuals  should  be  for  the  unity  .       59 

65.  Indeed  it  is  impossible — in  the  sense  in  which  the  unity  is  for 

the  individuals        .........       60 

66.  This  view  cannot  properly  be  condemned  as  atomistic  .         .       61 

B 

67.  It  does  not,  however,  necessarily  follow  from  this  that  the 

Absolute  is  not  a  Self  ........       63 

68.  Lotze's  arguments  for  the  personality  of  the  Absolute    .         .       64 

69.  In  his  contention  that  the  Ego  is  independent  of  the  Non-Ego 

we  may  agree  in  a  certain  sense      ......       66 

70.  But  not  in  the  sense  in  which  it  would  allow  of  an  Inlinite 

Person     ...........       67 

71.  And   the  possibility   that   the  Absolute  should   be   a  Person 

becomes  trivial       .........  69 

72.  And  it  would  be  a  PersonaUty  entirely  unhke  oui's         .         .  69 

73.  Lotze's  asserted  immediate  certaintythat  the  greatest  must  exist  70 

74.  If  this  be  taken  as  strictly  immediate  it  is  only  of  interest  for 

Lotze's  biography   .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .71 

75.  If  it  be  taken  as  a  conclusion  admitting  of  proof,  it  has  no  pro- 

babiUty  unless  the  truth  of  Idealism  has  been  demonstrated  .       72 

76.  Even  in  that  case,  we  cannot  infer  that  what  men  have  always 

desired  is  a  fundamental  demand  of  spirit       ....       72 

77.  Nor  have  aU  men  desired  the  existence  of  a  personal  God  .         .       74 

78.  And  no  attempt  has  been  made  to  prove  a  priori  that  a  personal 

God  is  a  fundamental  demand  of  spirit   .        .         .         .         .74 

79.  Lotze's  theory  that  the  differences  between  the  Inlinite  and  the 

Finite  are  such  as  to  make  the  Infinite  the  only  I'eal  Person  .       75 

80.  This   theory   considered.     Unities   of  System   and   Unities   of 

Centre 76 

81.  An  Individual  is  not  hindered  from  being  self-determined  by  tlie 

existence  of  outside  reality  to  which  he  is  in  relation      .         .  78 

82.  The  same  continued  ........  79 

83.  Nor,  if  he  were,  would  it  follow  that  the  Infinite  was  a  Person  .  80 

84.  We  have  only  dealt  with  those  of  Lotze's  arguments  which 

would  be  applicable  to  Hegel's  Absolute      .         .         .         .81 

c 

85.  The  individual  unity  in  consciousness 81 

86.  Such    a   unity  is  not   found    in  the  Absolute.     And  it  is  this 

unity  which  gives  the  direct  sense  of  Self  which  forms  the 
positive  essence  of  PersonaUty       ......       82 

87.  Thus  even  the  valueless  possibility  of  Personahty  mentioned 

in  Section  71  can  no  longer  be  predicated  of  the  Absolute      .       83 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS  XI 


88.  The  impossibility  of  this  becomes  more  obvious  when  we 

retlcct  that  the  ditferentiatioiis  of  the  Absolute  are  them- 
selves Persons 84 

89.  The  Absolute  could  be  called  a  Person  if  we  extended  the 

meaning  of  the  term  to  cover  all  sphitual  unities.     But 

this  would  be  wasteful  and  cojxfusing        ....         85 

90.  It  is  unmeaning  to  enquire  whether  the  Absolute  is  higher 

or  lower  than  a  Person 86 

D 

91.  Would  the  denial  of  Personality  to  the  Absolute  affect  our 

morality  ?   There  is  no  logical  justification  for  its  doing  so  .         87 

92.  We  have  not  sufficient  evidence   to  detei'mine  whether  it 

would  do  so  in  fact 89 

93.  But  what  evidence  is  available  seems  against  the  supposition         90 

94.  We  have  even  less  light  on  the  value  of  the  effect  that  such  a 

denial  would  have  upon  oui-  emotions  .         .         .         .         91 

95.  At  anj'  rate,  the  behef  in  a  personal  Absolute  is  nearly  as  far 

removed  from  the  historical  belief  in  God  as  is  the  behef  in 

an  impersonal  Absolute       .......         92 

96.  It  is  better  not  to  call  an  impersonal  Absolute  by  the  name 

of  God 93 


CHAPTER    IV 

TUE   SUPKEME   GOOD    AND   THE    MODERN    CRITERION 


97.  The  nature  of  Supreme  Reality.    This  is  not,  as  such,  the 

Supreme  Good    .........         95 

98.  In  point  of  fact,  however,  the  Supreme  Keahty,  according 

to  Hegel,  is  also  the  Supreme  Good  ....         96 

99.  This  Supreme  Good  is  not  purely  hedonistic        ...         96 

100.  The  Moral  Criterion  need  not  be  identical  with  the  Supreme 

Good 96 

101.  The  necessity  of  a  Moral  Criterion 97 

102.  We   must   judge   our  actions   according   to   their  relatively 

immediate  consequences,   as  their  ultimate  consequences 

are  unknown  to  us 98 

B 

103.  The  idea  of  Perfection  will  not  serve  as  a  Moral  Criterion         99 

104.  The  same  continued 100 


Xll  TABLE    OF    CONTENTS 

PAGE 

105.  The  same  continued       .         • 101 

106.  Examples  of  the  ambiguity  of  the  idea  of  Perfection  as  a 

Moral  Criterion 102 

107.  The  attempt  to  use  it  as  a  Moral  Criterion  leads  to  sophistry       104 

108.  Again,  the  idea  of  Perfection  is  useless  when  the  question 

is  quantitative.     Examples  of  this     .         .         .         .         .104 

109.  And  an  Ethical  system  is  bound  to  provide  the  principles 

upon  which  such  questions  can  be  answered    .         .         .       105 

110.  Nor  would  the  principle  of  "my  station  and  its  duties"  be 

available  as  a  Moral  Criterion 106 

C 

111.  On  the  other  hand  the  calculation  of  Pleasures  and  Pains 

does  seem  to  give  us  an  applicable  criterion,  whether  it 

is  a  correct  one  or  not       .         .         .         .         .         .         .107 

112.  We  do  know  the  difference  between  Pleasures  and  Pains   .       108 

113.  The  objection  that  Pleasure  is  an  abstraction      .         .         .       108 

114.  The  objection  that  Pleasures  vanish  in  the  act  of  enjoyment .       109 

115.  The  objection  that  Pleasures  are  intensive  quantities,  and 

so  cannot  be  added  together     .         .         .         .         .         .110 

116.  But  we  are  continually  adding  them,  in  cases  where  no  one 

would  suppose  that  the  results  were  completely  unmeaning       111 

1 17.  And  such  additions  have  some  place  in  morahty,  on  any 

system  of  Ethics 112 

118.  And  every  system  of  Ethics,  which  requires  a  Criterion  at 

all,  has  either  Pleasure  or  Perfection,  in  some  form,  as 

that  Criterion      .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .112 

119.  Now  Perfection  as  a  C^riterion  also  requires  the  addition  of 

intensive  quantities 113 

120.  Examples  of  this 114 

121.  Thus  Ethics  of  every  sort  seem  to  stand  or  fall  with  the 

possibihty  of  the  addition  of  intensive  quantities     .         .       115 

122.  And   there  seems,   on   consideration,   no  reason   why   they 

should  not  be  added  .         .         .         .         .         .         .116 

123.  This  is  not  affected   by   the  impossibility  of  very  precise 

measurements 117 

D 

124.  How  far,  then,  is  Pleasure  a  correct  Criterion?    The  Good 

may  be  analyzed  into  Development  and  Harmony  .         .       118 

125.  Of  Harmony  the  hedonic  Criterion  is  a  trustworthy  test, 

but  this  is  not  always  the  case  with  Development .         .       119 

126.  Although,  in  the  long  run,  the  greatest  Development  and 

the  gi'eatest  Happiness  are  inseparable      ....       120 


TABLE    OF   CONTENTS  XUl 

PAGE 

Examples  of  this 121 

When  Harmony  and  Development  lead  in  different  direc- 
tions, the  conflict  is  not  between  Pleasure  and  Perfection, 
but  between  two  elements  of  Perfection      ....       122 

The  solution  of  the  difficulty  adopted  by  Common  Sense  .       123 

But  neither  this  nor  any  other  is  satisfactory     .         .         .       123 

Summary  of  results.     There  are  some  cases  in  which  we 

have  no  Criterion  to  trust  ......       123 

This  does  not  introduce  so  much  practical  uncertainty  as 

might  be  supposed 124 

Some  uncertainty,  no  doubt,  it  produces.  But  it  does  not 
deny  that  there  is  an  objective  Right,  though  we  cannot 
know  it 126 

And  everyone  must  admit  that  we  do  not  always  know  the 

Right.     The  difference  is  not  great 126 

Nor  is  the  attainment  of  the  Good  viltimately  dependent 

on  our  action      .........       127 

No  doubt  such  a  view  brings  out  the  fact  that  Virtue  is 

not  an  ultimate  conception.     But  this  is  an  advantage  .       127 


CHAPTER    V 

PUNISHMENT 

Definition  of  Punishment       ...  ...       129 

Theories  justifying  Punishment     ......       129 

The  vindictive  theorj'  has  fallen  out  of  favour  .  .  .  131 
What  is  Hegel's  theory?     It  has  been  supposed  to  be  the 

vindictive  theory,  but  this  is  incorrect  ....  132 
Hegel's   theory   is   that   Punishment,    as   such,    may   cause 

Repentance         .........       133 

The  objection  that  all  Punishment  is  essentially  degrading  134 
But  can  Punishment,  as  such,  produce  Repentance?  .  .  135 
It  can  do  so,  if  inflicted  by  an  authority  which  the  culprit 

recognizes  as  embodying  the  moral  law  ....  136 
But  is  such  a  recognition  compatible  with  a  violation  of  the 

law?     Yes.     {a)    The  recognition  may  not  have  sufficient 

strength  to  enable  us  to  resist  temptation  .  .  .137 
{b)    Or  we  may  faQ  to  see  that  the  law  applies  to  a  par- 

ticxilar  case 138 

(c)    Or  we  may  not  know  that  the  authority  had  forbidden 

the  act  in  question 138 


XIV  TABLE    OF    CONTENTS 

PAGE 

148.  But  would  Punishment  be  just  in  these  last  two  cases? 

There  is  no  reason  that  it  should  not  be  just  .         .       139 

149.  (d)    Or  our  recognition  of  the  authority,   previous  to  the 

Punishment,  may  have  been  too  vague  to  determine  our 
action 141 

150.  Thus  Punishment  produces  Repentance  by  emphasising  the 

element  of  Disgrace 142 

151.  Disgrace  must  be  distinguished  from  Degradation        .         .       142 

152.  It  is  not  advisable  to  trust  exclusively  to  the  Disgrace  in- 

volved in  the  fault 143 

153.  It  is  rarely  that  the  Punishments  of  a  modem  State  can 

produce  Repentance.     The  main  object  of  such  Punish- 
ment should  be  deterrent  .......       144 

154.  And  most  offences  against  such  a  State  are  either  (a)  com- 

mitted deUberately  from  a  sense  of  duty  .         .         .       145 

155.  Or  (b)  committed  by  persons  in  whom  the  sense  of  right 

is,  in  the  matter  in  question,  hopelessly  dormant    .         .       146 

156.  And,  in  the  remaining  cases,  the  modern  citizen  does  not 

conceive  the  State  as  the  embodiment  of  the  moral  law .  146 
167.  Hegel's  mistake  lay  in  supposing  that  Punishment  could 
have  the  effect  he  treats  of,  when  inflicted  by  the  Criminal 
Law  of  a  modern  State.  This  came  from  his  putting  the 
State  too  high,  and  the  Conscience  of  the  Individual  too 
low 147 

158.  He  forgets  that  a  State  which  could  be  the  moral  authority 

for  its  citizens  could  only  have  existed  in  antiquity        .       148 

159.  And    that,  before    the    higher  unity  of    the 'future  can   be 

attained,  the  State,  as  such,  will  have  ceased  to  exist    .       149 

160.  But  although  Hegel's  theory  has  no  vaUdity  in  Jurisprudence, 

it  is  of  great  importance  for  Education        ....       149 


CHAPTER   VI 

SIN 

161.  Statement  of  Hegel's  doctrine  of  Sin 

162.  The  proof  cannot  be  a  priori,  nor  can  it  amount  to  demon- 

stration  

163.  Quotations  from  the  Philosophy  of  Religion 

164.  Innocence    is    good.     And    yet   it    implies    the    absence    of 

goodness      .......... 

165.  The  relation  of  Innocence  to  Virtue 

166.  They  are  the  Thesis  and  Synthesis  of  a  triad      . 

167.  Of  which  Sin  is  the  Antithesis      ...... 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS  XV 

PAGE 

But  this  explanation  of  Sin  presupposes  the  existence  of  Evil       159 
The  subordinate  triad  of  Sin.     It  may  be  presumed  analo- 
gous to  the  triad  of  Sin,  Punishment,  and  Repentance  in 
the  Philosophy  of  Law        .         .         .         .         .         .         .159 

But  Retribution  and  Amendment  will  be  here  more  appro- 
priate terms 160 

Why  Retribution  must  follow  on  Sin 161 

And  Amendment  on  Retribution 162 

The  analogy  of  Retribution  to  Punishment.  .  .  .  164 
The  transition  to  Virtue  from  Innocence  and  Sin  .  .  165 
The  transition  to  Virtue  from  Amendment  .         .         .165 

The  process   from   Innocence   to   Virtue  may   be   repeated 

more  than  once  in  each  man 166 

Virtue  can  be  increased  otherwise  than  by  Sin  and  Amend- 
ment    167 

But  Iimocence  necessarily  leads,  through  Sin,  Retribution, 

and  Amendment,  to  Virtue 168 

Yet,  in  fact,  some  members  of  this  process  are  often  seen, 
in  individual  cases,  without  being  followed  by  the  later 

ones 168 

Hegel  may  have  regarded  the  process  as  only  a  tendency 

in  the  individual,  though  an  actual  fact  in  the  race        .       169 
Or  he  may  have  regarded  the  process  as  completed  for  each 

individual  in  a  subsequent  life 169 

Summary        ..........       170 

Comparison  with  two  other  theories  of  Sin  .         .         .       171 

Moral  evil  and  moral  good  are  not  so  fundamentally  opposed 

for  Hegel  as  for  many  philosophers 171 

But  this  theory  affords  no  logical  justification  for  immoral 

action 172 

Nor  is  it  likely,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  to  lead  to  such  action  .  173 
The  theory  certainly  does  not  lend  itself  to  the  deification 

of  Virtue 174 

An  application  to  the  principles  of  Education     .         .         .       174 


CHAPTER   VII 

THE    CONCEPTION    OF   SOCIETY    AS   AN   ORGANISM 

Statement  of  Hegel's  position 177 

The  same  continued 178 

Pi'ofessor  Mackenzie's  position 179 

The  intrinsic  relations  of  parts  to  the  whole,  as  proved  by 

Professor  Mackenzie,  only  implies  mutual  determination.  180 


XVI  TABLE    OF    CONTENTS 


193.  And  need  involve  no  higher  category  than  Absolute  Mecha- 

nism      182 

194.  Although  the  end  of  Society  is  human  well-beirig,  it  does 

not  follow  that  it  hes  within  Society        ....  183 

195.  Illustrations  of  this 184 

196.  A  definition  of  Organic  Unity  proposed        ....  185 

197.  Is  Society  the  end  of  man?     The  ideal  Society  of  heaven 

is,  but  not  our  present  Society  on  earth  .         .         .         .187 

198.  Nor  ought  our  present  Society  to  be  our  end       .         .         .  188 

199.  For,  in  progressing  through  it,  our  relation  to  it  is  often 

negative 189 

200.  Arguments  in  support  of  this  statement       .         .         .         .190 

201.  The  same  continued .  192 

202.  Statement  of  results  reached 192 

203.  Earthly  Society  does  not  always  improve  or  deteriorate  in 

proportion  as  its  unity  increases  or  diminishes         .         .  193 

204.  Philosophy  can  afford  us  no  guidance  in  acting  on  Society  195 

205.  Nor  is  it  to  be  expected  that  it  should  do  so     .         .         .  196 


CHAPTER   VIII 

HEGELIANISM   AND   CHRISTIANITY 

206.  Introductory 197 

207.  The  definition  of  Christianity 198 

208.  Division  of  the  subject 198 

A 

209.  Statement  of  Hegel's  views  on  the  Trinity  and  Personality 

of  God.     The  Primary  and  Secondary  Triads  .         .         .       199 

210.  He  identifies  the  distinctions  of  the  Secondary  Triad  with 

those  of  the  Trinity 201 

211.  But  the  Secondary  Triad  forms  part  of  a  dialectic  process  202 

212.  And  therefore  the  Synthesis  expresses  its  whole  reahty       .  204 

213.  This  would  not  lead  to  the  ordinary  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  204 

214.  The  Personahty  of  God.     Hegel's  statement  of  the  Primary 

Triad 205 

215.  This  is  again  a  dialectic  process   ......       207 

216.  And,  therefore,  if  God  is  reaUy  Personal,  it  must  be  in  the 

Kingdom  of  the  Spirit 208 

217.  God  in  the  Kingdom  of  the  Spirit  is  a  Community    .         .       209 

218.  And  so  can  scarcely  be  a  Person — especially  as  it  is  bound 

together  by  Love 210 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS  XVii 

PAGE 

Hegel's  use  of  the  word  Love 211 

Its  relation  to  Friendship 212 

And  to  Particularity  .  .  .  .  ,  .  .  .212 
Hegel's  views  on  the  Personality  of  God  have  been  obscured 

by  his  use  of  the  word  God 213 

And  by  mistakes  as  to  the  nature  of  the  Pantheism  which 

he  rejects 213 

And   by  supposing   that  Spirit  cannot   be  Personal  unless 

God  is  a  Person 214 

B 

Hegel's  doctrine  of  Incarnation 215 

Its  similarities  to  the  Christian  doctrine  ....  216 
But,  for  Hegel,  God  is  incarnate  in  everything  finite  .       217 

And  all  the  reality  of  everything  finite  is  only  its  Incarnation 

of  God 218 

As  to  the  Christian  doctrine  of  the  Incarnation  three  ques- 
tions arise,  of  which  the  first  has  been  considered  above      218 
Hegel's  demonstration  for  the  necessity  of  the  Incarnation 

being  typified  in  a  particular  man 219 

Why  the  typification  in  several  men  would  be  unsatisfactory  220 
For  Hegel  this  typification  is  a  necessity  to  be  regretted  .  221 
Why  Jesus  should  be  taken  as  the  type — not  because  of 

his  personal  perfection  ••.....  222 
Nor  of  the  excellence  of  his  moral  teaching  .  .  .  222 
But  because  he  bears  witness  to  the  metaphysical  truth  of 

the  Unity  of  God  and  Man 223  X 

But  the  Unity  is  asserted  merely  immediately  .  .  .  .  224 
And  the  Unity  asserted  is  itself  immediate,  and  therefore 

only  one  side  of  the  truth 225 

Why  the  type  must  be  found  in  a  teacher  whose  assertion 

of  the  Unity  was  immediate      ......       226" 

And  why  it  must  be  found  in  a  teacher  who  asserted  an 

immediate  Unity         •■.....  226 

In  what  sense  the  position  of  Jesus  was  determined  by  the 

choice  of  the  Church 228 

Hegel's  view  of  Jesus  is,  at  all  events,  not  the  usual  Chris- 
tian view    •....,.,  22Q 

C 

Hegel's  statement  of  the  doctrine  of  Original  Sin)       .         .       230' 
The  consequences  of  this  doctrine,  as  held  by  Hegel  .         .       232 
This  doctrine  may  be  true,  and  may  be  Christian,   but  it 

is  by  no  means  specially  Christian 233  ' 


XVlll  TABLE    OF   CONTENTS 

PAGE 

245.  And  he  regards  Sin  as,  at  any  rate,  superior  to  Innocence  .  234 

246.  As  is  seen  in  his  treatment  of  the  Fall        ....  234 

247.  Hegel's  statement  of  the  doctrine  of  Grace ....  236 

248.  This  doctrine,  again,  is  not  specially  Christian     .         .         .  237 

249.  Hegel  would  seem  to  attribute  the  doctrine  of  Grace  to 

Jesus,  and  that  of  Original  Sin  to  his  successors     .         .       238 

250.  As  to  morahty — its  commands  and  prohibitions  are  much 

the  same  for  Hegel  as  for  Christianity      ....       239 

251.  But  he  differs  from  Christianity  in  the  comparatively  slight 

importance  he  gives,  (o)  to  Sin 239 

252.  (b)  to  Conscience 240 

253.  (c)  to  ImmortaUty 241 

254.  (d)  to  Purity  of  Motive 242 

255.  (e)  And,  indeed,  to  moraUty  as  a  whole       ....  242 

256.  (/)  Moreover,  the  ideas  of  humUity  and  contrition  for  sin 

have  for  Hegel  only  a  relative  vahdity    ....       243 

D 

257.  Summary  of  results 244 

258.  Why   did   Hegel   attempt   to   connect   with   Christianity   a 

system  so  unlike  the  ordinary  doctrines  of  Christians?    .       245 

259.  It  cannot  have  been  from  cowardice,  or  from  a  regard  for 

the  interests  of  the  non-philosophical  pubhc     .         .         .       245 

260.  Nor  can  it  be  attributed  to  a  sympathy  for  the  life  and 

character  of  Jesus       ........       246 

261.  The  explanation  is  to  be  found  in  his  definition  of  Religion 

as  something  which  cannot  give  absolute  truth        .         .       247 

262.  His  meaning  will  be  that  no  Religion  can  ever  give  a  closer 

approach  to  absolute  truth  than  is  given  by  Christianity       248 

263.  And,  if  Hegel's  philosophy  is  true,  it  must  be  admitted  that 

no  ReHgion  has  approximated  to  the  truth  as  closely  as 
Christianity 249' 

264.  Historical  confirmation  of  this  view      .....       250  ' 


CHAPTEE    IX 

THE    FURTHER   DETERMINATION   OF   THE   ABSOLUTE 


265.  An  IdeaUst  philosophy  has  three  stages        ....  252! 

266.  The  practical  importance  of  the  third  stage         .         .         .  253  • 

267.  The  subject  of  the  present  chapter 254 

268.  The  nature  of  perfected  Knowledge 255  > 


TABLE    OF   CONTENTS 


XIX 


PAGE 

In  which  the  question  "Why  is  the  Universe  as  a  whole  what 

it  is  ?  "  is  the  only  one  which  remains,  and  is  illegitimate    .  257 

The  natm-e  of  perfected  Volition  ......  258 

The  significance  of  a  life  which  enjoyed  this  perfection  would 

be  summed  up  in  Love      .......  260 

And  in  nothing  else       ••....,.  261 

The  apparently  unreasoning  nature  of  Love         .         .         .  262 


B 

Love  is  not  only  the  highest  reahty  in  the  universe,   but 

the  sole  reahty 

For  (a)  the  duahty  between  Knowledge  and  Vohtion  cannot 

be  maintained  in  the  Absolute 

The  distinction  between  Knowledge  and  Vohtion  is  not  in 

their  relation  to  action 

Nor  in  the  activity  or  passivity  of  the  mind 

But  is  that,  in  a  case  of  imperfect  harmony,  we  condemn 

in  Knowledge  our  ideas,  in  Vohtion  the  facts  . 
The  same  continued       ....... 

This  distinction  could  find  no  place  in  perfection 
An  objection  considered         ...... 

The  perfected  state  of  Spirit  could  not  be  mere  Feehng 

There  only  remains  Emotion 

The  only  form  of  Emotion  which  could  fill  this  place  would 

be  Love       ......... 

And  Love  does  transcend  the  opposition  between  Knowledge 

and  Vohtion 

A  second  hne  of  argument  leads  to  the  same  conclusion 

for  (b)  both  Knowledge  and  Vohtion  postulate  an  ideal 

which  they  can  never  reach,  as  long  as  they  remain  Know 

ledge  and  Vohtion 

The  element  of  the  Not-SeK  is  essential  to  Knowledge  and 

Vohtion.     But  it  is  incompatible  with  their  perfection 
In  Knowledge  this  element  shows  itself  in  apparent  oppo 

sition  to  the  Self 

And  this  is  the  reason  that  we  cannot  get  rid  of  the  illegiti 

mate  question  "Why  is  the  Universe  as  a  whole  what  it  is  ? ' 
The  possibihty  of  knowing  that  Knowledge  is  inadequate  . 
Agam,  Vohtion  requires  that  all  Experience  shall  be  a  Means 

to  the  End  of  the  person  who  wills      .... 
The  element  of  the  Not-SeK  prevents  this  . 
And  this  gives  an  appearance  of  contingency  to  all  satis 

faction  of  Vohtion 


262 

263:-' 

263 
264 

265 
266 
267 
268 

269 

270 

270  v^ 


27l/ 

272v 

273 

273( 

274 


276^^ 


276 


XX  TABLE    OF    CONTENTS 

PAGE 

293.  In  a  perfected  state  of  Spirit,  we  must  be  able  to  regard 

the  Not-Self  as  we  regard  the  Self 277 

294.  The  Not-Self  of  each  of  us  is  some  other  Selves  .         .       278 

295.  In  Love  we  regard  the  person  loved  in  the  same  way  as 

we  regard  ourselves 278 

296.  Reasons  for  beheving  this 278 

.(297.     The  same  continued 279 

298.  And    thus    Love   supphes    the    defects    of    Knowledge    and 

Vohtion 280 

299.  A  third  line  of  argument  leads  to  the  same  conclusion:  for 

(c)  each  Individual  must  have  a  unique  nature  of  its  own  282 

300.  Explanation  of  this 282 

301.  This  nature  cannot  be  found  in  Knowledge  or  Vohtion      .  284 

302.  But  may  be  found  m  Love  .......  285 

303.  Thus  three  lines  of  argument  lead  to  the  same  conclusion     .  285 

c 

304.  The  objection  that  Love  is  not  at  present  self-subsistent  .  286 

305.  Love,  if  perfect,  would  be  inconsistent  with  sense-presentation  287 

306.  And  with  time '       .         .  287 

,  307.  The  objection  that  Love  does  not  always  at  present  vary 

directly  with  development . 

308.  This  Love  cannot  be  Love  of  God 

309.  And  still  less  of  mankind 

310.  Its  natme       ...... 

311.  Its  extent 

312.  The  mystical  character  of  our  conclusion 


289 
289 
290 
290 
291 
292 


CHAPTER  I 

INTRODUCTION 

1.  By  Cosmology  I  mean  the  application,  to  subject-matter 
empirically  known,  of  a  priori  conclusions  derived  from  the 
investigation  of  the  nature  of  pure  thought.  This  empirical 
element  clearly  distinguishes  Cosmology  from  the  pure  thought 
of  Hegel's  Logic.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  clearly  to  be  distin- 
guished from  the  empirical  conclusions  of  science  and  every-day 
life.  These  also,  it  is  true,  involve  an  a  priori  element,  since 
no  knowledge  is  possible  without  the  categories,  but  they  do 
not  depend  on  an  explicit  affirmation  of  a  priori  truths.  It  is 
possible  for  men  to  agree  on  a  law  of  chemistry,  or  on  the  guilt 
of  a  prisoner,  regardless  of  their  metaphysical  disagreements. 
And  a  man  may  come  to  correct  conclusions  on  these  subjects 
without  any  metaphysical  knowledge  at  all.  In  Cosmology, 
however,  the  conclusions  reached  are  deduced  from  propositions 
relating  to  pure  thought.  Without  these  propositions  there 
can  be  no  Cosmology,  and  a  disagreement  about  pure  thought 
must  result  in  disagreements  about  Cosmology. 

Of  this  nature  are  the  subjects  treated  of  in  this  book.  The 
conception  of  the  human  self  is  a  conception  with  empirical 
elements,  and  there  is  therefore  an  empirical  element  in  the 
question  whether  such  selves  are  eternal,  and  whether  the 
Absolute  is  a  similar  self.  So  too  the  conceptions  of  Morality, 
of  Punishment,  of  Sin,  of  the  State,  of  Love,  have  all  empirical 
elements  in  them.  Yet  none  of  the  questions  we  shall  discuss 
can  be  dealt  with  by  the  finite  sciences.  They  cannot  be 
settled  by  direct  observation,  nor  can  they  be  determined  by 
induction.  In  some  cases  the  scope  of  the  question  is  so 
vast,  that  an  induction  based  on  instances  within  the  sphere 
of  our  observation  would  not  give  even  the  slightest  rational 


2  JNTIiODFCTION 

presumption  in  favour  of  any  solution.  In  other  cases  the 
question  relates  to  a  state  of  things  so  different  from  our  present 
experience  that  no  relevant  instances  can  be  found.  The  only 
possible  treatment  of  such  subjects  is  metaphysical. 

2.  Hegel  gives  a  very  small  part  of  his  writings  to  cosmo- 
logical  questions — a  curious  fact  when  we  consider  their  great 
theoretical  interest,  and  still  greater  practical  importance.  When 
he  passes  out  of  the  realm  of  pure  thought,  he  generally  confines 
himself  to  explaining,  by  the  aid  of  the  dialectic,  the  reasons 
for  the  existence  of  particular  facts,  which,  on  empirical  groimds, 
are  known  to  exist,  or,  in  some  cases,  were  wrongly  supposed  to 
exist.  The  Philosophy  of  Nature,  the  greater  part  of  the  Philo- 
sophy of  Spirit,  and  nearly  the  whole  of  the  Philosophy  of  Law, 
of  the  Philosophy  of  History,  and  of  the  Aesthetic,  are  taken 
up  by  this.  The  same  thing  may  be  said  of  the  Second  Part  of 
the  Philosophy  of  Religion,  the  First  and  Third  Parts  of  which 
contain  almost  the  only  detailed  discussion  of  cosmological 
problems  to  be  found  in  his  works. 

This  pecuUarity  of  Hegel's  is  curious,  but  undeniable.  I  do 
not  know  of  any  possible  explanation,  unless  in  so  far  as  one 
may  be  found  in  his  want  of  personal  interest  in  the  part  of 
philosophy  which  most  people  find  more  interesting  than  any 
other.  When  I  speak  in  this  book  of  Hegehan  Cosmology,  I  do 
not  propose  to  consider  mainly  the  views  actually  expressed 
by  Hegel,  except  in  chapter  viii,  and,  to  some  extent,  in 
chapter  v.  Elsewhere  it  will  be  my  object  to  consider  what 
views  on  the  subjects  under  discussion  ought  logically  to  be 
held  by  a  thinker  who  accepts  Hegel's  Logic,  and,  in  particular, 
Hegel's  theory  of  the  Absolute  Idea.  I  presume,  in  short,  to 
endeavour  to  supplement,  rather  than  to  expound. 

It  is  for  this  reason  that  I  have  devoted  so  much  space 
to  discussing  the  views  of  Lotze,  of  Mr  Bradley,  and  of  Dr 
Mackenzie.  Since  we  have  so  little  assistance  on  this  subject 
from  Hegel  himself,  it  seemed  desirable  to  consider  the  course 
taken  by  philosophers  who  held  the  same  conception  of  the 
Absolute  as  was  held  by  Hegel,  or  who  supported  their  opinions 
by  arguments  which  would  be  equally  relevant  to  Hegel's  con- 
ception of  the  Absolute. 


INTRODUCTION  3 

3.  The  subject-matter  of  those  problems  which  can  only 
be  treated  by  Cosmology  is  varied,  and  the  following  chapters 
are,  in  consequence,  rather  disconnected  from  each  other.  But 
they  illustrate,  I  think,  three  main  principles.  The  first  of 
these  is  that  the  element  of  differentiation  and  multiplicity 
occupies  a  much  stronger  place  in  Hegel's  system  than  is 
generally  believed.  It  is  on  this  principle  that  I  have  en- 
deavoured to  show  that  all  finite  selves  are  eternal,  and  that 
the  Absolute  is  not  a  self.  These  two  conclusions  seem  to  me 
to  be  very  closely  connected.  As  a  matter  of  history,  no  doubt, 
the  doctrines  of  human  immortality  and  of  a  personal  God  have 
been  rather  associated  than  opposed.  But  this  is  due,  I  think, 
to  the  fact  that  attempts  have  rarely  been  made  to  demonstrate 
both  of  them  metaphysically  in  the  same  system.  I  believe 
that  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  a  proof  of  our  own  immortality 
which  did  not  place  God  in  the  position  of  a  community,  rather 
than  a  person,  and  equally  difficult  to  find  a  conception  of  a 
personal  God  which  did  not  render  our  existence  dependent  on 
his  will — a  will  whose  decisions  our  reason  could  not  foresee. 

My  second  main  principle  is  that  Hegel  greatly  over- 
estimated the  extent  to  which  it  was  possible  to  explain 
particular  finite  events  by  the  aid  of  the  Logic.  For  this 
view  I  have  given  some  reasons  in  chapter  vii  of  my  Studies 
in  the  Hegehan  Dialectic.  Applications  of  it  will  be  found  in 
chapters  iv  and  vii  of  the  present  work,  and,  in  a  lesser  degree, 
in  chapters  v  and  vi. 

Thirdly,  in  chapter  ix,  I  have  endeavoured  to  demonstrate 
the  extent  to  which  the  Logic  involves  a  mystical  view  of 
reality — an  implication  of  which  Hegel  himself  was  not,  I  think, 
fully  conscious,  but  which  he  realised  much  more  fully  than 
most  of  his  commentators. 


1—2 


CHAPTER   II 

HUMAN  IMMORTALITY 

4.  Experience  teaches  us  that  there  exist  in  the  Universe 
finite  personal  spirits^.  I  judge  myself,  in  the  first  place,  to  be 
such  a  finite  personal  spirit — to  be  something  to  which  all  my 
experience  is  related,  and  so  related,  that,  in  the  midst  of  the 
multiplicity  of  experience,  it  is  a  unity,  and  that,  in  the  midst 
of  the  flux  of  experience,  it  remains  identical  with  itself.  And 
I  proceed  to  judge  that  certain  effects,  resembling  those  which 
I  perceive  myself  to  produce,  are  produced  by  other  spirits  of 
a  similar  nature.  It  is  certain  that  this  last  judgment  is 
sometimes  wrong  in  particular  cases.  I  may  judge  during  a 
dream  that  I  am  in  relation  with  some  person  who  does  not,  in 
fact,  exist  at  all.  And,  for  a  few  minutes,  an  ingenious  auto- 
maton may  occasionally  be  mistaken  for  the  body  of  a  living 
person.  But  philosophy,  with  the  exception  of  Solipsism,  agrees 
with  common  sense  that  I  am  correct  in  the  general  judgment 
that  there  do  exist  other  finite  personal  spirits  as  well  as  mine. 

These  spirits  are  called  selves.  And  the  problem  which  we 
have  now  to  consider  is  whether  there  is  a  point  in  time  for 
each  self  after  which  it  would  be  correct  to  say  that  the  self 
had  ceased  to  exist.  If  not,  it  must  be  considered  as  immortal, 
whether  as  existing  throughout  endless  time,  or  as  having  a 
timeless  and  therefore  endless  existence. 

^  Throughout  this  chapter,  I  shall  employ  the  word  finite,  when  used  without 
quahfication,  to  denote  anything  which  has  any  reahty  outside  it,  whether  its 
determination  is  merely  external,  or  due  to  its  own  nature.  Hegel  himself 
speaks  of  the  self-determined  as  infinite.  But  this  is  inconvenient  in  practice, 
though  it  is  based  on  an  important  truth.  For  it  leaves  without  a  name  the 
difference  between  the  whole  and  a  part  of  reahty,  while  it  gives  the  name  of 
infinity  to  a  quaUty  which  has  already  an  appropriate  name — self-determination. 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  5 

5.  Hegel's  own  position  on  this  question,  as  on  so  many 
other  questions  of  cosmology,  is  not  a  little  perplexing.  He 
asserts  the  truth  of  immortality  in  several  places^,  and  he  never 
denies  it.  But  his  assertions  are  slight  and  passing  statements, 
to  which  he  gives  no  prominence.  And  in  the  case  of  a  doctrine 
of  such  importance,  a  merely  incidental  assertion  is  almost 
equivalent  to  a  denial. 

When  we  pass  to  the  applications  of  the  dialectic,  the 
perplexity  becomes  still  greater.  For  the  doctrine  of  immortality 
is  quietly  ignored  in  them.  Hegel  treats  at  great  length  of  the 
nature,  of  the  duties,  of  the  hopes,  of  human  society,  without 
paying  the  least  attention  to  his  own  belief  that,  for  each  of  the 
men  who  compose  that  society,  life  in  it  is  but  an  infinitesimal 
fragment  of  his  whole  existence — a  fragment  which  can  have  no 
meaning  except  in  its  relation  to  the  whole.  Can  we  believe 
that  he  really  held  a  doctrine  which  he  neglected  in  this 
manner  ?  ^ 

On  the  other  hand  we  have  his  explicit  statements  that 
immortality  is  to  be  ascribed  to  the  self.  To  suppose  these 
statements  to  be  insincere  is  impossible.  There  is  nothing  in 
Hegel's  life  or  character  which  would  justify  us  in  believing 
that  he  would  have  misrepresented  his  views  to  avoid  perse- 
cution. Nor  would  the  omission  of  such  casual  and  trifling 
affirmations  of  the  orthodox  doctrine  have  rendered  his  work 
appreciably  more  likely  to  attract  the  displeasure  of  the  govern- 
ments under  which  he  served. 

6.  The  real  explanation,  I  think,  must  be  found  elsewhere. 
The  fact  is  that  Hegel  does  not  appear  to  have  been  much 
interested  in  the  question  of  immortality.  This  would  account 
for  the  fact  that,  while  he  answers  the  question  in  the  affirmative, 
he  makes  so  little  use  of  the  answer.  It  is  the  fundamental 
doctrine  of  his  whole  system  that  reality  is  essentially  spirit. 
And  there  seems  no  reason  whatever  to  accuse  him  of  sup- 
posing that  spirit  could  exist  except  as  persons.    But — rather 

1  Cp.  Philosophy  of  Religion,  i.  79,  ii.  268,  313,  495  (trans,  i.  79,  iii.  57,  105, 
303). 

-  Cp.  the  letter  which,  almost  at  the  end  of  his  own  life,  he  wrote  to  Heinrich 
Beer  on  the  death  of  Beer's  son  {1st  Sept.  1831.  Letter  271  in  the  Collected 
Edition). 


b  HUMAN   IMMORTALITY 

illogically — he  seems  never  to  have  considered  the  individual 
persons  as  of  much  importance.  All  that  was  necessary  was 
that  the  spirit  should  be  there  in  some  personal  form  or  another. 
It  follows,  of  course,  from  this,  that  he  never  attached  much 
importance  to  the  question  whether  spirit  was  eternally 
manifested  in  the  same  persons,  or  in  a  succession  of  different 
persons. 

No  one,  I  imagine,  can  read  Hegel's  works,  especially  those 
which  contain  the  applications  of  the  dialectic,  without  being 
struck  by  this  characteristic.  At  times  it  goes  so  far  as  almost 
to  justify  the  criticism  that  reality  is  only  considered  valuable 
by  Hegel  because  it  forms  a  schema  for  the  display  of  the  pure 
Idea.  I  have  tried  to  show  elsewhere^  that  this  view  is  not 
essential  to  Hegel's  system,  and,  indeed,  that  it  is  absolutely 
inconsistent  with  it.  But  this  only  shows  more  clearly  that 
Hegel's  mind  was  naturally  very  strongly  inclined  towards  such 
views,  since  even  his  own  fundamental  principles  could  not 
prevent  him  from  continually  recurring  to  them. 

Since  Hegel  fails  to  emphasise  the  individuahty  of  the 
individual,  his  omission  to  emphasise  the  immortahty  of  the 
individual  is  accounted  for.  But  it  remains  a  defect  in  his 
work.  For  this  is  a  question  which  no  philosophy  can  be 
justified  in  treating  as  insignificant.  A  philosopher  may  answer 
it  aflSrmatively,  or  negatively,  or  may  deny  his  power  of  answer- 
ing it  aU.  But,  however  he  may  deal  with  it,  he  is  clearly 
wrong  if  he  treats  it  as  unimportant.  For  it  does  not  only 
make  all  the  difference  for  the  future,  but  it  makes  a  profound 
difference  for  the  present.  Am  I  eternal,  or  am  I  a  mere 
temporary  manifestation  of  something  eternal  which  is  not 
myself  ?  The  answer  to  this  question  may  not  greatly  influence 
my  duties  in  every-day  life.  Immortal  or  not,  it  is  equally  my 
duty  to  pay  my  bills,  and  not  to  cheat  at  cards,  nor  to  betray 
my  country.  But  we  can  scarcely  exaggerate  the  difference 
which  will  be  made  in  our  estimate  of  our  place  in  the  universe, 
and,  consequently,  in  our  ideals,  our  aspirations,  our  hopes,  the 
whole  of  the  emotional  colouring  of  our  lives.  And  this  is  most 
of  all  the  case  on  Hegelian  principles,  which  declare  that 
^  Studies  in  the  Hegelian  Dialectic, 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  7 

existence  in  time  is  inadequate,  and  relatively  unreal.  If  we 
are  immortal,  we  may  be  the  supreme  end  of  all  reality.  If 
time  made  us,  and  will  break  us,  our  highest  function  must  be 
to  be  the  means  of  some  end  other  than  ourselves. 

7.  To  determine  the  true  relation  of  Hegel's  philosophy 
to  the  doctrine  of  immortality,  we  must  go  into  the  matter 
at  greater  length  than  he  has  thought  it  worth  while  to  do 
himself.  We  must  take  Hegel's  account  of  the  true  nature 
of  reality,  and  must  ask  whether  this  requires  or  excludes 
the  eternal  existence  of  selves  such  as  our  own.  Now  Hegel's 
account  of  the  true  nature  of  reality  is  that  it  is  Absolute 
Spirit.  And  when  we  ask  what  is  the  nature  of  Absolute 
Spirit,  we  are  told  that  its  content  is  the  Absolute  Idea.  The 
solution  of  our  problem,  then,  will  be  found  in  the  Absolute 
Idea. 

8.  We  are  certain,  at  any  rate,  that  the  doctrine  of  the 
Absolute  Idea  teaches  us  that  all  reality  is  spirit.  No  one, 
I  believe,  has  ever  doubted  that  this  is  Hegel's  meaning.  And 
it  is  also  beyond  doubt,  I  think,  that  he  conceived  this  spirit 
as  necessarily  differentiated.  Each  of  these  differentiations, 
as  not  being  the  whole  of  spirit,  will  be  finite.  This  brings 
us,  perhaps,  nearer  to  the  demonstration  of  immortality,  but  is 
far  from  completing  it.  It  is  the  eternal  nature  of  spirit  to  bei 
differentiated  into  finite  spirits.  But  it  does  not  necessarily* 
follow  that  each  of  these  differentiations  is  eternal.  It  might 
be  held  that  spirit  was  continually  taking  fresh  shapes,  such  as 
were  the  modes  of  Spinoza's  Substance,  and  that  each  differ- 
entiation was  temporary,  though  the  succession  of  differentiation 
was  eternal.  And,  even  if  it  were  established  that  spirit 
possessed  eternal  differentiations,  the  philosophising  human 
being  would  still  have  to  determine  whether  he  himself,  and 
the  other  conscious  beings  with  whom  he  came  in  contact,  were 
among  these  eternal  differentiations. 

If  both  these  points  were  determined  in  the  affirmative 
we  should  have  a  demonstration  of  immortality.  But  the 
conclusion  will  be  different  in  two  respects  from  the  ordinary 
form  in  which  a  belief  in  immortality  is  held.  The  ordinary 
belief  confines  immortality  to  mankind — so  far  as  the  inhabitants 


8  HUMAN   IMMORTALITY 

of  this  planet  are  concerned.  The  lower  animals  are  not 
supposed,  by  most  people,  to  survive  the  death  of  their  present 
bodies.  And  even  those  who  extend  immortaUty  to  all  animals 
commonly  hold  that  much  of  reality  is  not  spiritual  at  all, 
but  material,  and  that  consequently  neither  mortality  nor 
immortality  can  be  predicated  of  it  with  any  meaning.  But 
if  we  can  deduce  immortaUty  from  the  nature  of  the  Absolute 
Idea,  it  will  apply  to  all  spirit — that  is  to  say  to  all  reahty — 
and  we  shall  be  led  to  the  conclusion  that  the  universe  consists 
entirely  of  conscious  and  immortal  spirits. 

The  second  peculiarity  of  the  conclusion  will  be  that  the 
immortality  to  which  it  refers  will  not  be  an  endless  existence 
in  time,  but  an  eternal,  i.e.,  timeless  existence,  of  which  whatever 
duration  in  time  may  belong  to  the  spirit  will  be  a  subordinate 
manifestation  only.  But  this,  though  it  would  separate  our 
view  from  some  of  the  cruder  forms  of  the  belief,  is,  of  course, 
not  exclusively  HegeHan  but  continually  recurs  both  in  philo- 
sophy and  theology. 

We  have  to  enquire,  then,  in  the  first  place,  whether  our 
selves  are  among  the  fundamental  differentiations  of  spirit, 
whose  existence  is  indicated  by  the  dialectic,  and,  if  this  is  so, 
we  must  then  enquire  whether  each  of  these  differentiations 
exists  eternally. 

9.  The  first  of  these  questions  cannot  be  settled  entirely 
by  pure  thought,  because  one  of  the  terms  employed  is  a  matter 
of  empirical  experience.  We  can  tell  by  pure  thought  what 
must  be  the  nature  of  the  fundamental  differentiations  of 
spirit.  But  then  we  have  also  to  ask  whether  our  own  natures 
correspond  to  this  description  in  such  a  way  as  to  justify 
us  in  believing  that  we  are  some  of  those  differentiations.  Now 
our  knowledge  of  what  we  ourselves  are  is  not  a  matter  of 
pure  thought — it  cannot  be  deduced  by  the  dialectic  method 
from  the  single  premise  of  Pure  Being.  We  know  what  we 
ourselves  are,  because  we  observe  ourselves  to  be  so.  And  this 
is  empirical. 

Accordingly  our  treatment  of  the  first  question  will  fall 
into  two  parts.  We  must  first  determine  what  is  the  nature 
of  the  differentiations  of  spirit.     This  is  a  problem  for  the 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  9 

dialectic,  and  must  be  worked  out  by  pure  thought.  And  then 
we  must  apply  the  results  of  pure  thought,  thus  gained,  by 
enquiring  how  far  our  selves  can  or  must  be  included  in  the 
number  of  those  differentiations. 

10.  Hegel's  own  definition  of  the  Absolute  Idea  is,  "der 
Begriff  der  Idee,  dem  die  Idee  als  solche  der  Gegenstand,  dem 
das  Objekt  sie  ist^."  This  by  itself  will  not  give  us  very  much 
help  in  our  present  enquiry.  But,  as  Hegel  himself  tells  us, 
to  know  the  full  meaning  of  any  category,  we  must  not  be 
content  with  its  definition,  but  must  observe  how  it  grows 
out  of  those  which  precede  it.  We  must  therefore  follow 
the  course  of  the  dialectic  to  see  how  the  Absolute  Idea  is 
determined.  It  would  be  too  lengthy  to  start  with  the  category 
of  Pure  Being,  and  go  through  the  whole  chain  of  categories, 
and  it  will  therefore  be  necessary  to  take  some  point  at  which 
to  make  a  beginning.  This  point,  I  think,  may  conveniently 
be  found  in  the  category  of  Life.  There  seems  to  be  very  little 
doubt  or  ambiguity  about  Hegel's  conception  of  this  category 
as  a  whole,  although  the  subdivisions  which  he  introduces  into 
it  are  among  the  most  confused  parts  of  the  whole  dialectic. 
And  it  is  at  this  point  that  the  differentiations  of  the  unity 
begin  to  assume  those  special  characteristics  by  which,  if  at  all, 
they  wiU  be  proved  to  be  conscious  beings.  For  both  these 
reasons,  it  seems  well  to  begin  at  the  category  of  Life. 

According  to  that  category  reality  is  a  unity  differentiated 
into  a  plurality  (or  a  plurality  combined  into  a  unity)  in  such 
a  way  that  the  whole  meaning  and  significance  of  the  unity 
lies  in  its  being  differentiated  into  that  particular  plurality, 
and  that  the  whole  meaning  and  significance  of  the  parts  of  the 
pluraUty  lies  in  their  being  combined  into  that  particular 
unity. 

We  have  now  to  consider  the  transition  from  the  category 
of  Life  to  that  of  Cognition.  We  may  briefly  anticipate  the 
argument  by  saying  that  the  unity  required  by  the  category 
of  Life  will  prove  fatal  to  the  plurality,  which  is  no  less  essential 
to  the  category,  unless  that  plurality  is  of  a  peculiar  nature ;  • 

^  Encyclopaedia,  Section  236. 


10  HUMAN   IMMORTALITY 

and  that  it  is  this  pecuUarity  which  takes  us  into  the  category 
of  Cognition  1. 

11.  The  unity  which  connects  the  individuals  is  not  any- 
thing outside  them,  for  it  has  no  reality  distinct  from  them. 
The  unity  has,  therefore,  to  be  somehow  in  the  individuals  ^ 
which  it  unites.  Now  in  what  sense  can  the  unity  be  in  the 
individuals  ? 

It  is  clear,  in  the  first  place,  that  it  is  not  in  each  of  them 
taken  separately.  This  would  be  obviously  contradictory,  since, 
if  the  unity  was  in  each  of  them  taken  separately,  it  could  not 
connect  one  of  them  with  another,  and,  therefore,  would  not  be 
a  unity  at  all. 

12.  The  common-sense  solution  of  the  question  would 
seem  to  be  that  the  unity  is  not  in  each  of  them  when  taken 
separately,  but  that  it  is  in  all  of  them  when  taken  together. 
But  if  we  attempt  to  escape  in  this  way,  we  fall  into  a  fatal 
difficulty.  That  things  can  be  taken  together  implies  that 
they  can  be  distinguished.  For,  if  there  were  no  means  of 
distinguishing  them,  they  would  not  be  an  aggregate  at  all, 
but  a  mere  undifferentiated  unity.  Now  a  unity  which  is  only 
in  the  aggregate  cannot  be  the  means  of  distinguishing  the 
individuals,  which  make  up  that  aggregate,  from  one  another. 
For  such  a  unity  has  only  to  do  with  the  individuals  in  so  far 
as  they  are  one.  It  has  no  relation  with  the  qualities  which 
make  them  many.  But,  by  the  definition  of  the  category,  the 
whole  nature  of  the  individuals  lies  in  their  being  parts  of  that 
unity.  Consequently,  if  the  unity  does  not  distinguish  them, 
they  will  not  be  distinguished  at  all,  and  therefore  will  not 
exist  as  an  aggregate. 

In  the  case  of  less  perfect  unities  there  would  be  no 
difficulty  in  saying  that  they  resided  in  the  aggregate  of  the 
individuals,  and  not  in  the  individuals  taken  separately.  A 
regiment,  for  example,  is  not  a  reality  apart  from  the  soldiers, 

^  Sections  11 — 19  are  taken,  with  some  omissions,  from  a  paper  on  Hegel's 
Treatment  of  the  Categories  of  the  Idea,  pubhshed  in  Mind,  1900,  p.  145. 

2  I  use  the  word  Individual  here  in  the  sense  given  it  by  Hegel  (op.  especially 
the  Subjective  Notion).  To  use  it  in  the  popular  sense  in  which  it  is  equi- 
valent to  a  person  would  be,  of  course,  to  beg  the  question  under  discussion. 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  11 

neither  is  it  anything  in  each  individual  soldier,  but  it  is  a 
unity  which  is  found  in  all  of  them  when  taken  together. 
But  here  the  differentiations  are  not  entirely  dependent  on  the 
unity.  Each  man  would  exist,  and  would  be  distinguishable 
from  the  others,  if  the  regiment  had  never  been  formed.  In 
the  category  of  Life,  however,  no  differentiations  can  exist 
independently  of  the  unity.  And  therefore  the  unity  must  be 
found  in  them,  not  only  in  so  far  as  they  are  not  taken  as 
differentiated,  but  also  in  respect  of  all  their  differentiation. 
The  unity  cannot,  indeed,  as  we  saw  above,  be  in  each  indi- 
vidual as  a  merely  separated  individual.  But  it  must,  in  some 
less  crude  way,  be  found  in  each  of  the  united  individuals,  and 
not  merely  in  the  sum  of  them.  For  those  separate  character- 
istics which  differentiate  the  individuals  can  have  no  existence 
at  all,  unless  the  unity  is  manifested  in  them. 

13.  It  might  be  suggested  that  we  could  overcome  this  diffi- 
culty by  the  idea  of  mutual  determination.  If  each  individual 
is  in  relation  with  all  the  rest,  then  its  character  is  determined 
by  these  relations,  that  is,  by  the  unity  of  which  the  individuals 
are  parts.  Thus,  it  may  be  said,  the  unity  wiU  be  manifested 
in  the  separate  nature  of  each  individual,  since  that  nature  will 
be  what  it  is  by  reason  of  the  unity  of  all  the  individuals. 

But  this  is  only  going  back  to  the  category  of  Mechanism, 
and  the  same  difficulties  which  compel  us  to  regard  that 
category  as  inadequate  will  recur  here.  Are  we  to  regard  the 
individuals  as  possessing  any  element  of  individuality  which 
is  not  identical  with  their  unity  in  the  system?  To  answer 
this  question  in  the  affirmative  is  impossible.  Such  an  inner 
reality,  different  from  the  external  relations  of  the  individual, 
though  affected  by  them,  would  take  us  back  to  the  Doctrine 
of  Essence.  And  therefore  it  would  be  quite  incompatible 
with  our  present  category,  which  demands,  not  only  that  the 
individuals  shall  not  be  independent  of  their  unity,  but  that 
they  shall  have  no  meaning  at  all  but  their  unity.  And  there- 
fore there  cannot  be  any  distinct  element  of  individuality^. 

1  It  will  be  seen  later  that. this  does  not  mean  that  the  individuality  is 
subordinated  to  the  unity,  but  that  both  moments  are  completely  united  in  the 
c  oncrete  conception  of  reality,  from  which  they  are  both  abstractions. 


12  HUMAN   IMMOHTALITY 

On  the  other  hand,  if  we  answer  the  question  in  the 
negative,  our  difficulties  will  be  as  great.  The  individuals 
are  now  asserted  not  to  possess  any  elements  of  individuality, 
which  are  not  identical  with  their  unity  in  the  system.  But 
this,  while  it  is  no  doubt  the  true  view,  is  incompatible  with 
the  conception  that  the  unity  in  question  is  simply  the  unity 
of  the  mutual  determination  of  the  individuals.  As  we  saw 
when  Absolute  Mechanism  transformed  itself  into  Chemism, 
"the  whole  nature  of  each  Object  lies  in  the  relation  between 
it  and  the  other  Objects.  But  each  of  these  relations  does  not 
belong  exclusively,  ex  hypothesi,  to  the  Object,  but  unites  it 
with  the  others.  The  nature  of  wax  consists,  for  example, 
partly  in  the  fact  that  it  is  melted  by  fire.  But  this  melting 
is  just  as  much  part  of  the  nature  of  the  fire.  The  fact  is 
shared  between  the  wax  and  the  fire,  and  cannot  be  said  to 
belong  to  one  of  them  more  than  the  other.    It  belongs  to  both 

of  them  jointly The  only  subject  of  which  the  relation 

can  be  predicated  will  be  the  system  which  these  two  Objects 
form.  The  qualities  will  belong  to  the  system,  and  it  will  be 
the  true"  individual.  "But  again,  two  Objects  cannot  form 
.a  closed  system,  since  all  Objects  in  the  universe  are  in  mutual 
connexion.  Our  system  of  two  Objects  will  have  relations  with 
others,  and  will  be  merged  with  them,  in  the  same  way  that 
the  original  Objects  were  merged  in  it — since  the  relations, 
which  alone  give  individuality,  are  found  to  be  common  property, 
and  so  merge  their  terms  instead  of  keeping  them  distinct.  The 
system,  in  which  all  the  Objects,  and  all  their  relations,  are 
contained,  becomes  the  reality — the  only  true  Object,  of  which 
all  the  relations  contained  in  the  system  are  adjectives.  The 
individual  Objects  disappear i." 

This  explanation  also,  therefore,  must  be  rejected.  For  it 
destroys  the  individual  in  favour  of  the  unity,  while  our  cate- 
gory asserts  that  the  individuality  and  the  unity  are  equally 
essential.  And  such  a  victory  would  be  fatal  to  the  unity  also, 
since  it  converts  it  into  a  mere  undifferentiated  blank,  and 
therefore  into  a  nonentity. 

The  impossibility  of  taking  the  connection  required  by  the 
^Mind,  1899,  p.  47. 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  13 

category  of  Life  to  be  the  mutual  determination  of  individuals 
comes,  it  will  be  seen,  from  the  intensity  of  the  unity  in  that 
category.  Any  individuality  not  identical  with  the  unity  is 
incompatible  with  it.  And  in  mutual  determination  the  indi- 
viduality is  not  identical  with  the  unity.  Each  individual  has 
qualities  which  are  not  part  of  its  relations  to  others,  and 
which  are  therefore  not  the  unity  between  them.  (From  one 
point  of  view  it  may  be  said  that  this  ceases  to  be  true  when 
mutual  determination  becomes  perfect.  But  then  it  ceases  to 
be  mutual  determination,  and  we  return  once  more  to  the 
difficulties,  quoted  above,  of  Chemism.) 

14.  We  are  forced  back  to  the  conclusion  that  it  is 
necessary  that  in  some  way  or  another  the  whole  of  the  unity 
shall  be  in  each  individual,  and  that  in  no  other  way  can  the 
individuals  have  the  requisite  reality.  Yet,  as  we  saw  above, 
to  suppose  that  the  unity  exists  in  the  individuals  as  isolated, 
is  to  destroy  the  unity.  The  unity  must  be  completely  in  each 
individual.  Yet  it  must  also  be  the  bond  which  unites  them. 
How  is  this  to  be?  How  is  it  possible  that  the  whole  can  be 
in  each  of  its  parts,  and  yet  be  the  whole  of  which  they  are 
parts  ? 

The  solution  can  only  be  found  by  the  introduction  of  a 
new  and  higher  idea.  The  conception  which,  according  to 
Hegel,  will  overcome  the  difficulties  of  the  category  of  Life, 
is  that  of  a  unity  which  is  not  only  in  the  individuals,  but  also 
for  the  individuals.  (I  am  here  using  "in"  and  "for"  rather  in 
their  customary  English  meanings  than  as  the  equivalents  of 
Hegel's  technical  terms  "an"  and  "fiir.")  There  is  only  one 
example  of  such  a  category  known  to  us  in  experience,  and  that 
is  a  system  of  conscious  individuals. 

Accordingly  Hegel  calls  his  next  category,  to  which  the 
transition  from  Life  takes  us.  Cognition  (Erkennen).  This 
does  not  seem  a  very  fortunate  name.  For  the  category  is 
subdivided  into  Cognition  Proper  and  Volition,  and  Cognition 
is  scarcely  a  word  of  sufficient  generality  to  cover  Volition  as  a 
sub-species.  If  the  category  was  to  be  named  from  its  concrete 
example  at  all,  perhaps  Consciousness  might  have  been  more 
suitable. 


14  HUMAN   IMMORTALITY 

15.  If  we  take  all  reality,  for  the  sake  of  convenience,  as 
limited  to  three  individuals,  A,  B,  and  C,  and  suppose  them  to 
be  conscious,  then  the  whole  will  be  reproduced  in  each  of  them. 
A,  for  example,  will,  as  conscious,  be  aware  of  himself,  of  B,  and 
of  C,  and  of  the  unity  which  joins  them  in  a  system.  And  thus 
the  unity  is  within  each  individual. 

At  the  same  time  the  unity  is  not  in  the  individuals  as 
isolated.  For  the  whole  point  of  saying  that  the  unity  is  for 
A,  is  that  it  exists  both  out  of  him  and  in  him.  To  recur  to 
our  example,  the  essence  of  consciousness  is  that  the  contents  of 
consciousness  purport  to  be  a  representation  of  something  else 
than  itself.  (In  the  case  of  error,  indeed,  the  contents  of  con- 
sciousness have  no  external  counterpart.  But  then  it  is  only  in 
so  far  as  consciousness  is  not  erroneous  that  it  is  an  example  of 
this  category.) 

Thus  the  unity  is  at  once  the  whole  of  which  the  individuals 
are  parts,  and  also  completely  present  in  each  individual.  Of 
course  it  is  not  in  the  individuals  in  the  same  manner  as  the 
individuals  are  in  it.  But  this  is  not  to  be  expected.  The 
dialectic  cannot  prove  that  contraries  are  not  incompatible, 
and,  if  it  did,  it  would  destroy  all  thought.  Its  work  is  to 
remove  contradictions,  and  it  succeeds  in  this  when  it  meets 
the  demand  that  the  unity  shall  be  in  the  indiAdduals,  and  the 
individuals  in  the  unity,  by  showing  that  both  are  true,  though 
in  different  ways. 

The  unity  is  now,  as  it  is  required  by  the  category  to  be,  the 
whole  nature  of  each  individual.  In  so  far  as  we  regard  the 
individual  as  merely  cognitive,  and  in  so  far  as  his  cognition 
is  perfect  (and  both  these  conditions  would  be  realised  when  we 
were  judging  him  under  the  category  of  Cognition),  his  whole 
nature  would  consist  in  the  conscious  reproduction  of  the  system 
of  which  he  is  a  part.  This  does  not  involve  the  adoption  of  the 
view  that  the  mind  is  a  tabula  rasa,  and  that  it  only  receives 
passively  impressions  from  outside.  However  the  cognition 
may  be  produced,  and  however  active  the  part  which  the  mind 
itself  may  take  in  its  production,  the  fact  remains  that  the 
cognition,  when  produced,  and  in  so  far  as  perfect,  is  nothing 
but  a  representation  of  reality  outside  the  knowing  self. 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  15 

16.  We  must,  of  course,  remember  with  Cognition,  as  with 
Mechanism,  Chemism,  and  Life,  that  the  dialectic  does  not 
profess  to  deduce  all  the  empirical  characteristics  of  the  concrete 
state  whose  name  is  given  to  the  category,  but  merely  to  deduce 
that  pure  idea  which  is  most  characteristic  of  that  particular 
state.  But  the  case  of  Cognition  has  a  special  feature.  We 
can  recall  and  imagine  instances  of  the  categories  of  Mechanism 
and  Life  outside  the  spheres  of  Mechanics  and  Biology,  and  this 
helps  us  to  realise  the  difference  between  the  concrete  state  and 
the  category  which  Hegel  calls  after  it.  But  of  the  category  of 
Cognition  there  is  no  example  known  to  us,  and,  as  far  as  I  can 
see,  no  example  imaginable  by  us,  except  the  concrete  state  of 
cognition.  We  cannot,  I  think,  conceive  any  way  in  which  such 
a  unity  should  be  for  each  of  the  individuals  who  compose  it, 
except  by  the  individuals  being  conscious.  This  introduces  a 
danger  which  does  not  exist  in  so  great  a  degree  Tv^th  the  other 
categories  of  Mechanism,  Chemism,  and  Life — namely,  that  we 
should  suppose  that  we  have  demonstrated  more  of  the  charac- 
teristics of  cognition  by  pure  thought  than  in  fact  we  have 
demonstrated.  And  great  care  will  be  needed,  therefore,  when 
we  come  to  apply  the  conclusions  gained  in  this  part  of  the 
dialectic  to  cosmological  problems. 

17.  The  pure  idea  of  Cognition,  to  which  the  process  of 
the  dialectic  has  now  conducted  us,  is  free  from  any  empirical 
element  either  in  its  nature  or  its  demonstration.  It  is  true 
that  it  is  suggested  to  us  by  the  fact  that  there  is  part  of  our 
experience — the  existence  of  our  own  consciousness — in  which 
the  category  comes  prominently  forward.  It  is  possible  that 
we  might  never  have  thought  of  such  a  category  at  all,  if  we 
had  not  had  such  an  example  of  it  so  clearly  offered  us.  But 
this  does  not  affect  the  validity  of  the  transition  as  an  act  of 
pure  thought.  The  manner  in  which  the  solution  of  a  problem 
has  been  suggested  is  immaterial,  if,  when  it  has  been  suggested, 
it  can  be  demonstrated. 

Is  the  transition  from  Life  to  Cognition  validly  demon- 
strated? It  will  have  been  noticed,  no  doubt,  that,  though 
these  two  categories  form  the  Thesis  and  Antithesis  of  a 
triad,  the  passage  from  one  to  the  other  resembles  closely  the 


16  HUMAN   IMMORTALITY 

transition  to  a  Synthesis.  Certain  difficulties  and  contradictions 
arise  in  the  category  of  Life,  which  forbid  us  to  consider  it  as 
ultimately  valid,  and  the  claim  of  the  category  of  Cognition 
to  validity  lies  in  the  fact  that  it  can  transcend  and  remove 
these  contradictions.  But  this  gradual  subordination  of  the 
triadic  form  to  a  more  direct  movement  is  a  characteristic  to 
be  found  throughout  the  Logic,  and  one  which  by  no  means 
impairs  its  validity^. 

The  transition  must  therefore  be  judged  as  a  transition  to  a 
Synthesis.  Now  the  evidence  for  such  a  transition  is  always  in 
some  degree  negative  only.  We  have  reached  a  category  to 
which  the  dialectic  inevitably  leads  us,  and  which  we  cannot 
therefore  give  up,  but  which  presents  a  contradiction,  and  which 
we  cannot  therefore  accept  as  it  stands.  The  contradiction  must 
be  removed.  Now  the  necessity  of  the  proposed  Synthesis  lies 
in  the  fact  that  it  can  do  this,  and  that  no  other  idea  can,  so 
that  our  choice  lies  between  accepting  the  Synthesis  in  question 
and  asserting  a  contradiction.  So  far,  therefore,  the  proof  of  the 
validity  of  the  Synthesis  is  in  a  sense  incomplete.  For  it  is 
never  possible  to  prove  that  no  other  idea  could  be  proposed 
which  could  remove  the  contradiction.  All  that  can  be  done  is 
to  consider  any  particular  idea  which  may  be  put  forward  for 
that  purpose. 

So,  in  this  case,  our  justification  in  asserting  the  claim  of 
Cognition  to  be  a  category  of  the  Logic  lies  in  the  belief  that 
no  other  solution  can  be  found  for  the  difficulties  of  the  category 
of  Life.  But,  until  some  other  solution  has  been  found,  or  at 
least  suggested,  it  would  be  futile  to  doubt  the  validity  of  the 
transition  because  of  such  a  bare  possibility.  It  is  abstractly 
possible  that  there  is  some  simple  logical  fallacy  in  the  fifth 
proposition  of  Euclid,  which  has  escaped  the  notice  of  every 
person  who  has  ever  read  it,  but  will  be  found  out  to-morrow. 
But  possibilities  of  this  sort  are  meaningless  2. 

We  must  remember,  too,  that  any  idea  which  involves  any 
of  the  previous  categories  of  the  Logic,  except  in  a  transcended 

1  I  have  endeavoured  to  prove  this  in  Studies  in  the  Hegelian  Dialectic, 
chap.  IV. 

^  Cp.  Mr  Bradley's  Logic,  Book  i.  chap.  vn. 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  17 

form,  can  be  pronounced  beforehand  inadequate  to  solve  the 
problems  offered  by  the  category  of  Life,  by  which  all  such 
categories  have  themselves  been  transcended.  And  this  con- 
fines the  field,  in  which  an  alternative  solution  could  appear,  to 
very  narrow  limits. 

18.  We  may  sum  up  the  argument  as  follows,  putting  it 
into  concrete  terms,  and  ignoring,  for  the  sake  of  simplicity  of 
expression,  the  possibility  of  the  category  of  Cognition  having 
other  examples  than  consciousness — examples  at  present  un- 
known and  unimagined  by  us.  The  Absolute  must  be  differ- 
entiated into  persons,  because  no  other  differentiations  have 
vitahty  to  stand  against  a  perfect  unity,  and  because  a  unity 
which  was  undifferentiated  would  not  exist. 

Any  philosophical  system  which  rejected  this  view  would 
have  to  adopt  one  of  three  alternatives.  It  might  regard  reality 
as  ultimately  consisting  partly  of  spirit  and  partly  of  matter. 
It  might  take  a  materialistic  position,  and  regard  matter  as  the 
only  reality.  Or,  holding  that  spirit  was  the  only  reahty,  it 
might  deny  that  spirit  was  necessarily  and  entirely  differenti- 
ated into  persons.  Of  each  of  these  positions  it  might,  I  believe, 
be  shown  that  it  could  be  forced  into  one  of  two  untenable 
extremes.  It  might  not  be  in  earnest  with  the  differentiation 
of  the  unity.  In  that  case  it  could  be  driven  into  an  Oriental 
pantheism,  referring  everything  to  an  undifferentiated  unity, 
which  would  neither  account  for  experience  nor  have  any 
meaning  in  itself.  Or  else — and  this  is  the  most  probable 
alternative  at  the  present  time — it  might  preserve  the  differen- 
tiation by  asserting  the  existence,  in  each  member  of  the 
plurality,  of  some  element  which  was  fundamentally  isolated 
from  the  rest  of  experience,  and  only  externally  connected  with 
it.  In  this  case  it  would  have  fallen  back  on  the  categories  of 
Essence,  which  the  dialectic  has  already  shown  to  be  untenable. 

19.  Lotze,  also,  holds  the  view  that  the  differentiations  of 
the  Absolute  cannot  be  conceived  except  as  conscious  beings. 
His  reason,  indeed,  for  this  conclusion,  is  that  only  conscious 
beings  could  give  the  necessary  combination  of  unity  with 
change^.    This  argument  would  not  appeal  to  Hegel.    But  he 

^  Metaphysic,  Section  96. 
MCT.  2 


18  HUMAN   IMMORTALITY 

also  points  out^  that  we  can  attach  no  meaning  to  the  existence 
of  anything  as  apart  from  the  existence  of  God,  unless  we 
conceive  that  thing  to  be  a  conscious  being.  Here,  it  seems  to 
me,  we  have  the  idea  that  consciousness  is  the  only  differenti- 
ation which  is  able  to  resist  the  force  of  the  unity  of  the 
Absolute.  Lotze,  however,  destroys  the  Hegelian  character  of 
his  position  (and,  incidentally,  contradicts  the  fundamental 
doctrines  of  his  own  Metaphysic)  by  treating  the  individuaUty  of 
the  conscious  beings  as  something  which  tends  to  separate  them 
from  God,  instead  of  as  the  expression  of  their  unity  with  him. 

20.  The  subdivisions  of  the  category  of  Cognition  do  not 
concern  us  here.  The  transition  from  Cognition  to  the  Absolute 
Idea  itself  is  simple.  In  Cognition  we  had  a  harmony — a 
harmony  of  each  part  with  the  whole,  since  the  nature  of  each 
part  is  to  reproduce  the  nature  of  the  whole.  Now  harmonies 
are  of  two  different  kinds.  One  side  may  be  dependent  on  the 
other,  so  that  the  harmony  is  secured  by  the  determined  side 
always  being  in  conformity  with  the  determining  side.  Or, 
again,  neither  side  may  be  dependent  on  the  other,  and  the 
harmony  may  be  due  to  the  fact  that  it  is  the  essential  nature 
of  each  to  be  in  harmony  with  the  other,  so  that  neither  of 
them  needs  any  determination  from  without  to  prevent  its 
divergence. 

The  harmony  which  we  have  found  to  be  the  nature  of 
reality  must  be  of  the  latter  kind.  The  nature  of  the  whole  is 
not  determined  by  the  nature  of  the  individuals,  nor  the  nature 
of  the  individuals  by  the  nature  of  the  whole.  For  if  either  of 
these  suppositions  were  true  then  the  determining  side — whether 
the  whole  or  the  individuals — would  be  logically  prior  to  the 
other.  If,  however,  the  whole  was  logically  prior  to  the  indi- 
viduals, we  should  be  back  in  the  category  of  Chemism.  And  if 
the  individuals  were  logically  prior  to  the  whole,  we  should  be 
back  in  the  category  of  Mechanism.  Both  of  these  categories 
have  been  transcended  as  inadequate.  In  the  category  of  Life 
we  saw  that  the  two  sides  implied  one  another  on  a  footing  of 
perfect  equality.     The   plurality   has   no   meaning   except  to 

^  Metaphysic,    Section    98.     Microcosmus,   Book  ix.    chap.   m.   (iii.   533, 
trans,  ii.  644). 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  19 

express  the  unity,  and  the  unity  has  no  meaning  except  to 
unify  the  plurality.  The  passage  from  Life  into  Cognition 
contained  nothing  which  could  destroy  this  equahty  of  the 
two  sides,  which,  therefore,  we  must  still  regard  as  true.  And 
thus  we  must  consider  the  harmony  produced  in  Cognition 
to  be  one  in  which  the  two  sides  are  harmonious,  not  by  the 
action  of  one  or  the  other,  but  by  the  inherent  nature  of  both. 
Knowledge  and  will  cease  therefore  to  be  adequate  examples. 
For  harmony  is  secured  in  knowledge  when  the  content  of  the 
individual  is  in  accordance  with  the  content  of  the  whole.  And 
the  harmony  of  will  is  produced  when  the  content  of  the  whole 
harmonises  with  that  of  the  individual.  But  here  the  subordi- 
nation of  one  side  to  the  other  must  disappear. 

21.  This  brings  us  to  the  Absolute  Idea.  And  the  meaning 
of  that  idea  may  now  be  seen  in  greater  fulness  than  in  Hegel's 
own  definition.  Reality  is  a  differentiated  unity,  in  which  the 
unity  has  no  meaning  but  the  differentiations,  and  the  differenti- 
ations have  no  meaning  but  the  unity.  The  differentiations  are 
individuals  for  each  of  whom  the  unity  exists,  and  whose  whole 
nature  consists  in  the  fact  tliat  the  unity  is  for  them,  as  the 
whole  nature  of  the  unity  consists  in  the  fact  that  it  is  for  the 
individuals.  And,  finally,  in  this  harmony  between  the  unity 
and  the  individuals  neither  side  is  subordinated  to  the  other, 
but  the  harmony  is  an  immediate  and  ultimate  fact. 

It  will  be  noticed  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  transition  to 
the  Absolute  Idea  which  can  affect  our  previous  conclusion  that 
reahty  must  be  a  differentiated  unity,  and  that  the  unity  must 
be  for  each  of  the  individuals  who  form  the  differentiations. 
The  transition  has  only  further  determined  our  view  of  the 
nature  of  the  relation  between  the  individuals  and  the  whole. 
It  still  remains  true  that  it  is  that  particular  relation  of  which 
the  only  example  known  to  us  is  consciousness. 

This  is  as  far  as  pure  thought  can  take  us.  We  have  now 
to  consider  the  application  of  this  result  to  the  question  of  the 
immortality  of  the  selves  which  are  known  to  each  of  us,  in 
himself  and  others. 

22.  Taken  by  itself,  our  conclusion  as  to  the  nature  of 
Absolute  Reality  may  be  said  to  give  some  probability  to  the 

2—2 


20  HFMAN   IMMORTALITY 

proposition  that  our  selves  are  some  of  the  fundamental  differen- 
tiations of  the  reaUty.  For  we  have  learned  that  those 
fundamental  differentiations  must  be  of  a  certain  nature.  We 
know  nothing  which  possesses  that  nature  except  our  selves, 
and  we  cannot  even  imagine  anything  else  to  possess  it  except 
other  selves. 

That  this  gives  a  certain  presumption  in  favour  of  the 
fundamental  nature  of  our  selves  cannot,  I  think,  be  fairly 
denied.  For  the  only  way  of  avoiding  such  a  conclusion 
would  be  either  to  suppose  that  selves  like  our  own  were 
fundamental,  while  our  own  were  not,  or  else  to  take  refuge  in 
the  possibility  of  the  existence  of  other  ways  in  which  the  whole 
might  be  for  the  part — ways  at  present  unimaginable  by  us. 
And  neither  of  these  seems  a  very  probable  hypothesis. 

But,  after  all,  they  are  both  possible.  It  is  possible  that 
the  fundamental  differentiations  may  be  some  unimaginable 
things  other  than  selves,  or  that  they  may  be  selves  other  than 
our  own.  In  that  case  our  selves  would  be  degraded  to  an 
inferior  position.  They  would  have  some  reality,  but  they 
would  not  be  real  as  selves,  or,  in  other  words,  to  call  them  our 
selves  would  be  an  inadequate  expression  of  that  reahty.  The 
case  would  only  differ  in  degree,  from  that,  for  example,  of  a 
billiard-ball.  There  is  some  reality,  of  course,  corresponding  to 
a  billiard-ball.  But  when  we  look  on  it  as  material,  and  bring 
it  under  those  categories,  and  those  only,  which  are  compatible 
with  the  notion  of  matter,  we  are  looking  at  it  in  an  inadequate 
way.  It  is  not  utterly  and  completely  wrong,  but  it  is  only  a 
relative  truth.  It  is  possible  that  this  is  the  case  with  our 
selves.  The  view  of  the  universe  which  accepts  the  reality  of 
me  and  you  may  be  one  which  has  only  relative  truth,  and 
practical  utility  in  certain  circumstances.  The  full  truth  about 
the  reality  which  I  caU  me  and  you  may  be  that  it  is  not  me 
and  you,  just  as  the  full  truth  about  what  we  call  a  billiard-ball 
would  be  that  it  was  not  a  piece  of  matter. 

23.  We  must  look  for  a  more  positive  argument.  We  have 
shown  so  far,  if  we  have  been  successful,  that  our  selves  have 
certain  characteristics  which  they  would  have  if  they  were  some 
of  the  fundamental  differentiations  of  reality.     What  is  now 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  21 

required  is  to  show,  if  possible,  that  our  selves  have  charac- 
teristics which  they  could  not  have,  unless  they  were  some  of 
the  fundamental  differentiations  of  reality.  And  something,  I 
think,  can  be  said  in  support  of  this  view. 

24.  One  of  the  most  marked  characteristics  of  our  selves  is 
that  they  are  finite,  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word.  There 
are  few  things  which  appear  so  certain  to  the  plain  man  as  the 
fact  that  he  is  not  the  only  reality  in  the  universe.  Yet  when 
I  enquire  as  to  the  division  which  exists  between  myself  and 
any  other  reality,  I  find  it  quite  impossible  to  draw  the  line.  If 
I  am  to  distinguish  myself  from  any  other  reality,  then,  obviously, 
I  must  be  conscious  of  this  other  reality.  But 'how  can  I  be 
conscious  of  it  without  it  being  in  me?  If  the  objects  of  con- 
sciousness were  outside  me,  they  would  make  no  difference  to 
my  internal  state,  and,  therefore,  I  should  not  be  conscious  of 
them.  And,  also,  if  they  were  outside  me,  I  should  not  exist. 
For  the  pure  I,  though  doubtless  an  essential  moment  of  the 
self,  is  only  a  moment,  and  cannot  stand  alone.  If  we  withdraw 
from  it  all  its  content — the  objects  of  cognition  and  volition — 
it  would  be  a  mere  abstract  nonentity. 

25.  The  common-sense  solution  of  the  difficulty  is  that  the 
objects  which  exist  outside  me,  and  not  in  me,  produce  images 
which  are  in  me  and  not  outside  me,  and  that  it  is  these  images 
which  I  know.  But  this  theory  breaks  down.  No  one,  of 
coui'se,  would  assert  that  something  I  knew — my  friend,  for 
instance — existed  in  my  mind  in  the  same  way  that  he  existed 
for  himself.  But  it  is  equally  untenable  to  assert  that  he  exists 
exclusively  outside  me,  and  that  I  only  know  an  image  of  him 
which  exists  exclusively  in  me.  For  then  I  should  only  know 
the  image — not  him  at  all — and  therefore  should  not  know  it 
to  be  an  image,  since  nothing  can  be  known  to  be  a  copy  unless 
we  are  aware  of  the  existence  of  its  archetype.  Now  we  are 
aware  of  the  existence  of  images  in  our  minds;  we  recognize 
them  as  such ;  we  distinguish  them  from  the  reality  that  they 
represent;  and  we  make  judgments  about  the  latter.  I  say 
that  I  have  an  image  of  my  friend  in  my  mind,  and  also 
that  he  really  exists.  The  subject  of  this  second  assertion  is 
clearly  not  an  image  in  my  mind.    For  the  second  assertion  is 


22  HUMAN   IMMORTALITY 

additional  to,  and  contrasted  with,  a  statement  about  such  an 
image.  It  can  only  be  taken  as  a  statement  about  my  friend 
himself.  Let  us  assume  it  to  be  true  (as  some  such  statements 
must  be,  except  on  the  hypothesis  of  SoHpsism).  Then  its 
truth  shows  that  my  friend  exists,  and  not  merely  as  my  mental 
state,  that  is,  that  he  exists  outside  me.  And  yet  he  is  an 
object  of  my  consciousness.  And  how  can  he  be  that,  unless  he 
is  also  inside  me? 

Thus  the  theory  that  we  only  know  images  refutes  itself,  for, 
if  it  were  so,  we  should  never  know  them  to  be  images.  It  is 
possible — the  question  does  not  concern  us  here — that  we  only 
know  reahty  other  than  ourselves  through  inferences  based  on 
images  which  are  simply  in  our  minds.  But  that  we  do  know 
something  more  than  images  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  we  know 
images  to  be  such.  And  this  something  more  must  be  outside  us 
to  make  our  knowledge  true,  and  inside  us  to  make  our  know- 
ledge possible. 

26.  Again,  while  the  self  can  never  say  of  any  reality  that 
it  is  only  outside  it,  it  is  equally  impossible  for  it  to  say  of  any 
reahty  that  it  is  only  inside  it.  By  the  very  fact  of  saying 
"I  know  it,"  I  make  a  distinction  between  the  I  who  know,  and 
the  thing  which  is  known.  The  only  reality  of  which  it  could 
be  asserted  that  it  was  not  separated  from  the  self  by  the  self's 
consciousness  of  it  is  the  pure  I.  And  this  is  a  mere  abstraction. 
Without  it  the  self  would  not  exist.  But  taken  by  itself  it  is 
nothing. 

This  discrimination  of  the  self  from  the  object  of  knowledge 
increases  with  the  increase  of  knowledge.  In  proportion  as  I 
know  a  thing  more  completely,  I  may,  from  one  point  of  view, 
be  said  to  have  it  more  completely  in  myself.  But  it  is  equally 
true  to  say  that,  as  I  more  thoroughly  understand  its  nature, 
it  takes  more  and  more  the  form  of  a  completely  and  clearly 
defined  object,  and,  in  proportion  as  it  does  this,  becomes  more 
emphatically  not  myself.  The  same  course  may  be  traced  with 
will  and  emotion.  My  will  can  only  find  satisfaction  in  anything 
in  proportion  as  it  appears  a  distinct,  though  harmonious,  reahty. 
If  it  should  become  something  which  I  could  not  distinguish 
from  myself,  the  sense  of  satisfaction  would  vanish  into  a  mere 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  23 

emptiness.  And,  in  the  same  way,  while  nothing  draws  us  so 
close  to  others  as  intense  emotion,  nothing  enables  us  to  appre- 
ciate more  clearly  the  fact  that  those  others  exist  in  their  own 
right,  and  not  merely  as  phenomena  subordinate  to  our  own 
reality. 

27.  Thus  the  nature  of  the  self  is  sufficiently  paradoxical. 
What  does  it  include?  Everything  of  which  it  is  conscious. 
What  does  it  exclude?  Equally — everything  of  which  it  is 
conscious.  What  can  it  say  is  not  inside  it?  Nothing.  What 
can  it  say  is  not  outside  it?  A  single  abstraction.  And  any 
attempt  to  remove  the  paradox  destroys  the  self.  For  the  two 
sides  are  inevitably  connected.  If  we  try  to  make  it  a  distinct 
individual  by  separating  it  from  all  other  things,  it  loses  all 
content  of  which  it  can  be  conscious,  and  so  loses  the  very 
individuality  which  we  started  by  trying  to  preserve.  If,  on 
the  other  hand,  we  try  to  save  its  content  by  emphasising  the 
inclusion  at  the  expense  of  the  exclusion,  then  the  consciousness 
vanishes,  and,  since  the  self  has  no  contents  but  the  objects  of 
which  it  is  conscious,  the  content  vanishes  also.  Locke  tried 
the  first  alternative,  and  left  the  fact  that  we  know  anything 
inexpUcable.  Green,  on  the  other  hand,  came  very  near  to  the 
second  alternative,  and  approached  proportionally  nearly  to  the 
absurdity  of  asserting  knowledge  without  a  knowing  subject. 

28.  The  idea  of  the  self  need  not  be  false  because  it  is 
paradoxical.  Hegel  has  taught  us  that  the  contradictions 
which  the  abstract  understanding  finds  in  an  idea  may  be  due 
to  the  idea  being  too  concrete,  that  is,  too  true,  to  be  adequately 
measured  by  the  abstract  terms  of  merely  formal  thought.  But 
a  contradiction  is  very  far  from  being  a  sign  of  truth.  On  the 
contrary,  as  Hegel  fully  recognized,  an  unreconciled  contra- 
diction is  a  sign  of  error.  The  abstract  understanding  would 
pronounce  the  category  of  Life  and  the  idea  of  a  four-sided 
triangle  to  be  equally  contradictory.  Hegel  would  agree  with 
the  non-speculative  understanding  in  taking  this  as  a  sign  of 
error  in  the  idea  of  the  triangle.  But  of  the  category  he  would 
say  that  the  contradiction  only  showed  it  to  be  too  deep  and 
true  for  the  abstract  understanding  to  comprehend. 

How  is  the  distinction  to  be  explained?    The  explanation 


24  HFMAN   IMMORTALITY 

is  that  no  idea  which  is  contradictory,  according  to  the  canons 
of  the  understanding,  is  to  be  accepted  as  true  unless  the  idea 
can  be  deduced  in  such  a  way  as  to  explain  and  justify  the 
contradiction.  It  is  in  this  manner  that  we  gain  the  right  to 
beheve  in  the  successive  Syntheses  of  the  dialectic,  each  of 
which  is  contradictory  to  the  abstract  understanding,  since 
each  of  them  unites  two  contradictory  extremes — a  union  which 
the  understanding  declares  to  be  contradictory.  The  dialectic 
starts  from  a  beginning,  the  validity  of  which  the  understanding 
cannot  deny.  From  this  it  is  led  into  a  contradiction,  when  it 
is  seen  that  the  truth  of  this  first  Thesis  involves  the  truth 
of  the  contradictory  Antithesis.  From  this  it  proceeds  to  a 
Synthesis,  which  unites  and  reconciles  the  two  sides.  This 
reconciliation  is  a  paradox  and  a  contradiction  to  the  non- 
speculative  understanding,  because  it  unites  contradictions. 
But  the  understanding  has  lost  its  right  to  be  regarded  in  this 
matter.  For  the  course  of  the  triad  has  shown  that  if  we  trust 
to  the  understanding  alone  we  shall  be  left  with  an  unreconciled 
contradiction — since  we  shall  have  to  acknowledge  the  truth 
both  of  the  Thesis  and  the  Antithesis,  and  they  contradict  each 
other.  The  Synthesis  is  the  only  way  out  of  the  unreconciled 
contradiction  to  which  the  course  of  thought  inevitably  leads  us, 
and  if  we  adhered  to  the  canons  of  the  non-speculative  under- 
standing, which  would  reject  the  Synthesis,  our  result  would 
not  be  less  contradictory  from  the  standpoint  of  those  canons, 
while  we  should  have  lost  the  reconciliation  of  the  contradiction 
which  a  higher  standpoint  gives  us.  The  understanding  has 
no  right  to  reject  the  solution  when  it  cannot  escape  the 
difficulty. 

But  with  the  four-sided  triangle  the  case  is  very  different. 
There  is  no  course  of  reasoning  which  leads  us  up  to  the 
conclusion  that  four-sided  triangles  must  exist,  and  therefore  we 
take  the  contradictory  nature  of  the  idea  as  a  proof,  not  of  the 
inadequacy  of  the  understanding  to  judge  of  the  matter,  but  of 
the  falseness  of  the  idea. 

The  idea  of  the  self  is  paradoxical — contradictory  for  the 
understanding.  Then  we  have  two  alternatives.  We  may 
treat  it  like  the  idea  of  the  four-sided  triangle,  and  consider  it 


HTJMAN   IMMORTALITY  25 

as  completely  erroneous,  and  to  be  got  rid  of  as  soon  as  possible. 
Or  else  we  shall  have  to  justify  it  by  showing  that  the  neces- 
sary course  of  thought  leads  us  to  it,  that  it  is  the  only  escape 
from  an  unreconciled  contradiction,  and  that  it  must  therefore 
be  considered  as  too  deep  a  truth  to  be  judged  by  the  under- 
standing. Whether  it  is  to  be  taken  as  a  relative  or  as  the 
absolute  truth  would  depend  on  whether  it  did  or  did  not 
develop  contradictions  which,  in  their  turn,  needed  transcending 
by  a  fresh  idea. 

29.  To  dismiss  the  idea  of  self  as  completely  erroneous — 
as  a  pure  and  simple  mistake — would  be  the  course  which 
Hume  would  take.  Such  a  course  would  necessarily  conduct 
us  to  a  scepticism  like  his.  It  would  be  too  great  a  digres- 
sion to  recapitulate  here  the  arguments  to  prove  that  such  a 
scepticism  is  untenable,  and  that  the  idea  of  the  self  cannot 
be  summarily  rejected  in  this  way.  Nor  is  it  necessary  to  do 
so.  For  we  are  now  endeavouring  to  determine  what  must 
be  thought  of  the  self  on  Hegelian  principles,  and  it  is  certain 
that,  on  those  principles,  or  on  those  of  any  idealistic  system, 
it  would  be  impossible  to  treat  the  idea  of  the  self  as  a  mere 
delusion,  even  if  it  is  not  considered  as  an  adequate  expression 
of  reality. 

30.  The  only  remaining  course  is  to  justify  the  idea  of 
the  self  by  showing  that  the  characteristics  by  which  it  offends 
the  laws  of  the  abstract  understanding  are  the  result  of  the 
inevitable  nature  of  thought,  and  are  therefore  marks,  not  of 
the  error  of  the  idea,  but  of  the  inadequacy  of  the  laws.  If 
we  take  the  selves  to  be  the  fundamental  differentiations  of 
reality,  which  the  dialectic,  as  we  saw,  requires,  we  have 
obtained  the  necessary  explanation.  For  each  of  those  dif- 
ferentiations was  shown  to  contain  in  itself  the  content  of 
the  whole,  though,  of  course,  not  in  the  same  way  that  the 
whole  itself  contains  it.  Thus  if  we  ask  what  is  contained 
in  each  individual  differentiation,  the  answer  is  Everything. 
But  if  we  ask  what  is  contained  in  each  differentiation  in 
such  a  way  as  not  to  be  also  outside  it,  the  answer  is  Nothing. 
Now  this  is  exactly  the  form  that  the  paradox  of  the  self 
would  take,  if  we  suppose  a  self  whose  knowledge  and  volition 


26  HUMAN   IMMORTALITY 

were  perfect,  so  that  it  knew  and  acquiesced  in  the  whole  of 
reahty.  (I  shall  consider  later  on  the  objection  that  the  know- 
ledge and  volition  of  the  actual  selves  which  we  know  are  by 
no  means  so  perfect.) 

And  thus  the  paradox  of  the  self  would  be  justified.  But 
how  is  it  to  be  justified  on  any  other  view?  If  we  are  to  take 
the  idea  of  the  self,  not  as  a  mere  error,  yet  as  less  than 
absolute  truth,  we  must  find  some  justification  of  it  which 
will  show  that  the  necessary  course  of  thought  leads  up  to 
it,  and  also  over  it — that  it  is  relatively  true  as  transcending 
contradictions  which  would  otherwise  be  unreconciled,  but 
relatively  false  as  itself  developing  fresh  contradictions  which 
must  again  be  transcended.  Can  such  a  deduction  be  found? 
We  cannot  say  with  certainty  that  it  never  will  be,  but  at 
any  rate  it  does  not  seem  to  have  been  suggested  yet.  Most 
attempts  to  deal  with  the  self  endeavour  to  get  rid  of  the 
paradox  by  denying  one  side  or  the  other — either  denying 
that  the  self  includes  anything  which  is  external  to  it,  or 
denying  that  it  excludes  what  it  includes.  Mr  Bradley,  who 
fully  recognizes  the  paradox,  and  does  not  admit  the  absolute 
validity  of  the  idea,  gives  no  explanation  which  will  enable 
us  to  see  why  the  idea  is  to  be  accepted  as  having  even 
relative  truth. 

To  sum  up — the  self  answers  to  the  description  of  the 
fundamental  differentiations  of  the  Absolute.  Nothing  else 
which  we  know  or  can  imagine  does  so.  The  idea  of  the 
self  has  certain  characteristics  which  can  be  explained  if  the 
self  is  taken  as  one  of  the  fundamental  differentiations,  but 
of  which  no  explanation  has  been  offered  on  any  other  theory, 
except  that  of  rejecting  the  idea  of  the  self  altogether,  and 
sinking  into  complete  scepticism.  The  self  is  so  paradoxical 
that  we  can  find  no  explanation  for  it,  except  its  absolute 
reality. 

31.  We  now  pass  on  to  the  second  branch  of  the  subject. 
If  we  are  to  accept  the  selves  that  we  know  as  some  of  the 
fundamental  differentiations  of  the  Absolute,  does  this  involve 
that  the  selves  are  eternal?  The  Absolute,  no  doubt,  is  eternal, 
and  must  be  eternally  differentiated.    But  is  it  possible  that 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  27 

it  should  be  differentiated  by  means  of  an  unending  succession 
of  individuals,  each  of  whom  has  only  a  limited  existence  in 
time?  There  are,  I  think,  two  objections  to  the  possibility 
of  this.  In  the  first  place  it  does  not  seem  possible  that  the 
differentiations  in  question  should  change  at  all,  and,  secondly, 
if  they  did  change,  it  would  still  be  impossible  that  any  of  them 
should  cease  completely,  and  be  succeeded  by  others. 

32.  Can  we  then  conceive  the  selves — which  we  have  now 
identified  with  the  fundamental  differentiations — as  changing 
at  all?  The  content  of  each,  we  learn  from  the  dialectic,  is 
simply  a  reproduction  of  the  content  of  the  whole  ^.  It  will, 
therefore,  be  impossible  for  any  individual  self  to  suffer  any 
change,  unless  the  Absolute  itself  likewise  changes. 

Can  the  Absolute  change  as  a  whole?  The  Absolute,  as 
I  have  pointed  out  elsewhere^,  must  be  considered  as  having 
two  moments  in  it.  One  of  these  is  pure  thought,  the  nature 
of  which  is  determined  in  the  dialectic  process,  and  described 
in  the  Absolute  Idea.  The  other  is  the  unnameable  but  equally 
real  element,  which  is  the  immediate  which  thought  mediates, 
the  existence  of  which  makes  the  difference  between  the  still 
partially  abstract  Absolute  Idea  and  the  completely  concrete 
Absolute  Spirit. 

33.  Now,  of  these  two  elements,  the  element  of  pure 
thought  cannot  possibly  change.  If  the  dialectic  has  proved 
anything,  it  has  proved  that  nothing  can  be  an  adequate 
description  of  reality  but  the  Absolute  Idea.  But  if  the 
element  of  pure  thought  in  reality  should  change,  then  some- 
thing more,  or  less,  or  at  any  rate  different  from  the  Absolute 
Idea  would  be,  at  one  time,  an  adequate  description  of  reality. 
This  would  destroy  the  whole  of  Hegel's  Logic.  The  dialectic 
process  from  category  to  category  is  not  one  which  takes  place, 
or  is  reflected,  in  time.  For  the  point  of  each  transition  to 
a  Synthesis,  the  only  thing  which  makes  the  transition  valid 

^  The  word  reproduction  seems  the  best  we  can  employ,  but  it  is  rather 
misleading,  as  it  may  be  taken  to  imply  that  the  whole  is  active  in  this 
harmony,  and  the  individual  passive.  This,  as  we  saw  from  the  transition 
to  the  Absolute  Idea,  is  not  the  case. 

^  Studies  in  the  Hegelian  Dialectic,  Sections  14,  15. 


28  HUMAN   IMMORTALITY 


at  all,  is  the  demonstration  that,  as  against  the  Thesis  and  i( 
Antithesis,  the  Synthesis  is  the  only  reality,  and  that  these    ! 
terms,  in  so  far  as  they  differ  from  the  Synthesis,  are  unreal    j 
and  erroneous.     Thus  to  suppose  that  the  dialectic  process 
advanced  in  time  would  be  to  suppose  that  at  one  time — 
indeed  till  the  end  of  the  process  was  reached — the  unreal 
existed,   and  gradually   produced   the  real,   which   would  be 
obviously  absurd^. 

The   element    of   pure  thought  in  absolute  reahty,  then,     ' 
cannot  change.    But  would  it  not  be  possible  that  absolute    ' 
reality  should  change  in  respect  of  the  other  element?     All 
that  the  dialectic  tells  us  about  this  is  that  it  must  be  such    i 
as  to  be  mediated  by  the  element  of  pure  thought,  and  to    ! 
embody  it.    May  not  several  different  states  of  this  element 
answer  to  this  description,  and  in  this  case  would  not  a  change 
in  absolute  reality  be  possible,  in  so  far  as  the  element  of 
immediacy  passed  from  one  of  these  stages  to  the  other? 

We  must  however  remember  how  completely  and  closely  the 
two  elements  are  connected.  They  are  not  two  separate  things, 
out  of  which  absolute  reality  is  built,  but  two  aspects  which  can 
be  distinguished  in  absolute  reality.  And  while,  on  the  one 
side,  pure  thought  has  no  existence  except  in  so  far  as  it  is 
embodied  in  the  element  of  immediacy,  on  the  other  side  the 
element  of  immediacy  has  no  existence,  except  in  so  far  as  it 
embodies  pure  thought.  It  is  not  like  the  material  with 
which  an  artist  works,  which,  while  it  embodies  an  artistic  idea, 
has  yet  an  independent  existence,  with  various  qualities  irrele- 
vant to  the  idea  embodied.  A  block  of  marble  has  a  certain 
commercial  value,  a  certain  legal  ownership,  a  certain  tempera- 
ture, a  certain  history.  But  all  these  qualities  might  vary, 
without  making  it  less  fit  to  express  the  sculptor's  purpose. 
The  element  of  immediacy,  on  the  other  hand,  only  exists  in  so 
far  as  it  embodies  the  element  of  pure  thought.  i 

Now  if  this  element  were  to  change — say  from  X  Y  to  XZ — 

while  the  element  of  pure  thought,  of  course,  remained  the  same, 

it  would  mean  that  the  difference  between  XY  and  XZ  was 

immaterial  to   the   embodiment   of   pure   thought,   since   the 

^  Studies  in  tlie  Hegelian  Dialectic,  Section  147.  ■ 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  29 

Tinchanged  pure  thought  would  be  equally  embodied  in  both  of 
them.  And  this  would  be  contrary  to  what  we  had  previously 
determined — that  the  element  of  immediacy  had  reality  only 
in  so  far  as  it  embodied  the  pure  thought.  Of  course,  in 
ordinary  Ufe  we  often  see  a  thing  change  its  qualities,  and  yet, 
by  means  of  those  very  changing  qualities  themselves,  continue 
to  embody  some  purpose  or  meaning.  But  in  all  these  cases, 
we  have  to  conclude  that  the  difference  between  those  changing 
qualities  is  irrelevant  to  what  is  manifested.  And  here  we  have 
a  union  between  the  two  sides  which  is  so  close  that  we  are 
forbidden  to  think  anything  in  the  one  irrelevant  to  its  relation 
to  the  other.  The  conclusion  would  seem  to  be  that  the  element 
of  immediacy  can  change  no  more  than  the  element  of  pure 
thought,  and  that  therefore  absolute  reality  as  a  whole  must  be 
regarded  as  unchanging  i. 

34.  But  even  if  it  were  possible  for  the  selves  to  change, 
would  it  be  possible  for  any  of  them  to  perish?  It  is  not 
sufficient  that  the  unity  should  be,  in  a  general  way,  differenti- 
ated into  some  selves.  The  nature  of  the  unity  consists  simply 
in  its  differentiation  into  the  parts  which  compose  it,  and,  as  it 
has  a  definite  nature,  that  nature  must  determine  the  precise 
nature  of  the  individuals.  Or,  to  put  it  the  other  way  round, 
the  nature  of  the  individuals  is  simply  to  embody  the  unity. 
And,  therefore,  if  the  nature  of  the  unity  did  not  determine  the 
precise  nature  of  the  individuals,  the  nature  of  the  individuals 
would  not  be  determined  at  all,  and  the  individuals  would  not 
exist. 

Each  individual,  then,  has  its  definite  nature,  by  means  of 
which  it  manifests  the  unity.  If  one  perished,  then  another 
must  take  its  place.  Now  can  we  conceive,  even  if  we  allow 
the  possibihty  of  change,  that  one  self  could  in  this  way  take 
the  place  of  another?  For,  although  they  might  resemble  one 
another  in  certain  ways,  still,  by  the  hypothesis,  they  are 
different  individuals.  They  differ  then  in  respect  of  their 
individuality.  And  here  there  is  a  complete  break  between 
the  two.    For,  if  there  was  not,  there  would  not  be  the  death 

^  Note  to  Second  Edition.  I  have  here  omitted  a  second  argument  for  the 
same  conclusion  which  I  now  think  to  be  invaUd. 


30  HUMAN   IMMORTALITY 

of  one  individual,  and  the  creation  of  another.  Such  a  breach 
in  the  continuity  of  the  manifestation  must  imply  a  similar 
breach  in  the  continuity  of  what  is  manifested.  Now  this 
reduces  the  supposition  to  an  absurdity.  For,  supposing  the 
Absolute  to  be  able  to  change  at  all,  it  must  at  any  rate  change 
continuously.  If  there  was  a  breach  in  the  continuity  of  the 
Absolute,  it  would  have  to  be  an  absolutely  complete  one — for 
there  is  nothing  behind  the  Absolute  to  bridge  over  the  separa- 
tion. Reality  would  be  divided  into  two  unconnected  parts — 
which  is  impossible,  since  they  would  not  then  both  be  reality. 
And  this  necessary  continuity  in  the  Absolute,  involving  a 
similar  continuity  in  the  manifestation,  will,  therefore,  forbid 
us  to  suppose  that  any  of  the  selves  who  form  that  manifesta- 
tion can  ever  perish. 

35.  It  may  be  objected  to  this  that  a  breach  of  continuity 
in  the  manifestation  need  not  mean  a  breach  of  continuity  in 
what  is  manifested.  One  king  dies,  and  another  succeeds  him. 
Here  then  is  a  break  between  the  one  person  and  the  other, 
but  the  same  sovereignty  passes  from  one  to  the  other  without 
a  break.  But  in  such  a  case  as  this  the  transfusion  of  mani- 
fested and  manifestation  is  not  complete.  A  man  is  a  king 
only  in  respect  of  certain  aspects  of  his  nature.  And  these  he 
may  have  in  common  with  his  successor,  although  they  are 
different  people.  But  the  selves  have  no  existence  except  in  so 
far  as  they  manifest  the  unity  of  the  Absolute.  All  their 
characteristics  do  this,  and  therefore  there  can  be  no  breach 
in  the  continuity  of  any  of  the  characteristics  without  a  breach 
in  the  continuity  of  what  is  manifested.  On  the  other  hand,  to 
suppose  that  one  self  could  succeed  another  without  a  breach 
in  the  continuity  of  characteristics,  would  be  to  reduce  the  self 
to  a  mere  Ding  an  sich,  which  would  be  entirely  incompatible 
with  what  we  have  already  determined  about  it. 

Of  course  this  line  of  argument  would  not  hold  A^dth  such  a 
view  of  the  Absolute  as  Lotze's.  For  there  the  Absolute  is  to 
be  taken  as  something  more  and  deeper  than  the  unity  of  its 
differentiations,  so  that,  while  there  is  nothing  in  them  which 
is  not  in  it,  there  is  something  in  it  which  is  not  in  them.  In 
that  case  a  breach  in  the  unity  of  the  differentiations  would  hot 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  31 

necessarily  imply  a  breach  in  the  unity  of  the  Absolute,  because 
the  unity  might  be  preserved  by  that  part  of  the  Absolute  which 
lay  behind  the  differentiations.  But  then  this  is  not  Hegel's 
view.  He  reaches  in  the  category  of  Life  a  result  from  which 
he  never  departs  in  the  subsequent  categories — that  the  unity 
and  plurality  are  in  an  absolutely  reciprocal  relation,  so  that, 
while  the  plurality  is  nothing  but  the  differentiation  of  the 
unity,  the  unity  is  nothing  but  the  union  of  the  plurality. 

In  many  cases  in  ordinary  life  we  find  that,  although  a 
sudden  and  simultaneous  change  of  all  the  parts  of  the  whole 
would  destroy  its  continuity,  yet,  if  they  change  successively, 
they  may  all  have  their  continuity  broken  without  the  con- 
tinuity of  the  whole  suffering.  But  these  are  cases  in  which 
every  part  is  not  necessary  to  manifest  the  whole,  but  it  is 
possible  for  the  manifestation  to  vary  within  certain  limits. 
A  regiment,  for  example,  cannot  exist  without  soldiers.  But 
each  soldier  does  not  fulfil  a  definite  and  unique  function  without 
which  the  regiment  would  cease  to  be  a  regiment.  Thus  the 
breach  of  continuity  between  any  one  soldier  and  his  successor 
does  not  mean  a  breach  in  the  continuity  of  the  regiment, 
because  the  other  soldiers,  who  are  not  discharged  at  the  same 
moment,  are  sufficient  to  keep  up  the  continuity.  But  mth  the 
differentiations  of  the  Absolute  it  is  different.  For  it  is  the 
nature  of  the  Absolute  to  be  manifested  in  precisely  those  differ- 
entiations in  which  it  is  manifested,  and  so  a  breach  in  the 
continuity  anywhere  could  not  be  compensated  for  by  unbroken 
continuity  elsewhere.  The  Absolute  requires  each  self,  not  to 
make  up  a  sum,  or  to  maintain  an  average,  but  in  respect  of 
the  self's  special  and  unique  nature. 

36.  Up  to  a  certain  point  indeed,  it  is  a  mark  of  relatively 
high  reality  when  anything  can  change,  and  yet  remain  the 
same.  In  the  lowest  categories  of  all — those  of  Quality — there 
is  no  such  thing  as  change  possible.  For,  so  long  as  we  confine 
ourselves  to  them,  a  thing  must  either  remain  exactly  the 
same,  or  cease  to  exist.  The  moment  the  slightest  variation 
is  introduced,  the  previously  existing  thing  is  destroyed,  and  a 
quite  fresh  thing  substituted  in  its  place.  For  reality  is  not 
yet  separated  into  moments  in  such  a  way  that  one  varies 


32  HUMAN   IMMOKTALITY 

while  the  other  remains  the  same,  and  till  then  we  can  have  no 
change,  but  only  the  substitution  of  one  reahty  for  another. 
The  first  possibility  of  true  change  comes  in  with  the  categories 
of  Quantity.  And  that  possibihty  develops  as  we  reach  the 
categories  of  Essence,  while  it  is  greatest,  perhaps,  in  the 
category  of  Matter  and  Form. 

But,  although  the  dialectic  starts  below  the  possibility  of 
change,  it  reaches,  towards  the  end,  a  point  above  that  possi- 
bility. Change  only  became  possible  when  the  first  anticipations 
of  Essence  intruded  themselv^es  into  Being.  It  ceases  to  be 
possible  as  the  last  traces  of  Essence  die  out  of  the  Notion. 
For  change,  as  has  been  said,  we  require  to  look  at  the  reahty 
as  consisting  of  moments,  of  which  one  may  change  without 
affecting  the  other.  Now  this  independence  of  the  two  sides 
is  the  mark  of  Essence.  When  we  reach  the  final  subdivision 
of  Teleology,  we  have  at  last  left  this  fully  behind.  This  we 
saw  at  the  beginning  of  this  chapter,  while  defining  the  category 
of  Life,  which  has  the  same  content  as  the  last  form  of  Teleology. 
The  unity  has  no  meaning  except  its  expression  in  the  plurality, 
the  plurahty  has  no  meaning  except  its  combination  in  the 
unity.  The  independence  of  the  two  sides  has  gone,  and  vnth. 
it  the  possibility  of  change. 

If  we  consider  what  are  the  cases  in  which  we  can  say  that 
a  thing  changes  and  yet  remains  the  same,  we  shall  find  that 
we  regard  them  all  from  the  point  of  view  of  Essence.  Either 
the  manifestation,  or  what  is  manifested,  or  both  of  them,  must 
be  taken  as  having  something  in  it  which  is  not  concerned  with  . 
the  relation  between  the  two  sides,  and  which  can  consequently 
change  while  the  other  side  is  constant,  or  be  constant  while 
the  other  side  changes.  In  the  instance  which  we  considered 
above,  when  the  sovereignty  passes  unchanged  through  different 
kings,  the  kings  were  conceived  as  having  characteristics  other 
than  their  royalty,  so  that  the  men  were  different,  while 
manifesting  themselves  in  the  same  sovereignty.  In  technically 
Hegelian  language,  this  is  a  case  of  Essence  as  Appearance, 
since  we  disregard  the  change  in  what  is  manifested,  and  only 
regard  the  manifestation,  which  does  not  change.  On  the  other 
hand,  when  we  say  that  a  man  is  the  same  man  as  he  was 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  33 

yesterday,  though  he  may  be  thinking  quite  different  thoughts, 
and  doing  quite  different  things,  we  are  at  the  stand-point  of 
Essence  as  Ground.  For  here  our  answer  depends  on  the  un- 
changed state  of  what  is  manifested,  and  the  change  in  the 
manifestation  is  disregarded.  Both  alike  are  cases  of  Essence, 
and  both  therefore  are  inappUcable  to  our  present  subject- 
matter. 

37.  The  view  that  selves  are  manifestations  of  the  Absolute, 
in  such  a  way  that  they  change  and  perish  while  the  Absolute 
remains  unchanged,  is  one  which  has  always  had  an  attraction 
for  mystics.  It  is  especially  prominent  among  Oriental  thinkers. 
The  most  frequent  metaphors  by  which  this  thought  is  expressed 
are  those  of  a  drop  of  water  returning  to  the  ocean,  and  of 
a  rav  of  light  returning  to  the  sun.  They  show  that  the 
relation  which  was  conceived  to  exist  between  the  Absolute 
and  the  self  was  substantially  that  of  Matter  and  Form.  The 
Absolute  was  formless — or  relatively  formless — itself,  but  a  part 
of  it  assumed  form  and  limitation  and  became  a  self.  At  death, 
or  in  the  mystic  vision  of  true  wisdom,  the  form  disappeared, 
and  the  matter  dropped  back  into  the  undifferentiated  mass  of 
the  Absolute.  Such  a  view  involves  the  indifference  of  the 
Absolute  to  the  form  it  assumes.  For  all  the  changes  in  the 
forms  do  not  affect  the  changelessness  of  the  Absolute. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  repeat  here  Hegel's  demonstration  of 
the  inadequacy  of  Matter  and  Form,  since  it  is  quite  clear  that 
such  a  category  could  never  apply  to  the  selves  which  we  are 
now  considering.  These  selves  we  have  determined  as  the 
fundamental  differentiations  of  the  Absolute,  and  we  know  that 
the  Absolute  is  not  indifferent  to  the  nature  of  these  differen- 
tiations— on  the  contrary,  that  its  whole  nature  consists  in 
manifesting  itself  in  just  these  differentiations. 

Such  a  view  moreover  is  incompatible  with  what  we  know 
of  the  self  by  observation.  For  it  would  compel  us  to  regard 
each  self  as  the  form  of  a  certain  amount  of  matter  i,  which 
would  continue  to  exist  when  the  form  was  destroyed,  and  the 
self,  as  a  self,  had  ceased  to  exist.  This  conception,  as  applied 
to  the  self,  seems  to  be  meaningless.  The  self,  no  doubt,  can 
^  Matter  is,  of  course,  used  here  as  the  contraiy  of  Form,  not  of  Spirit. 

MOT.  3 


34  HUMAN   IMMORTALITY 

be  differentiated  into  parts.  But  they  are  parts  of  such  a 
nature  that  they  would  cease  to  exist  when  the  self  ceased  to 
exist.  To  regard  the  self  as  built  up  of  parts,  which  could 
exist  after  it,  and  be  recombined  like  the  bricks  from  a  house 
which  has  been  pulled  down,  is  to  render  it  impossible  to  explain 
consciousness. 

38.  It  may  be  objected  to  the  preceding  arguments  that  in 
order  to  identify  the  selves  which  we  know  with  the  funda- 
mental differentiations  of  the  Absolute,  we  have  given  to  them  a 
perfection  which  those  selves  notoriously  do  not  possess,  and  so 
reduced  our  arguments  to  an  absurdity.  We  have  proved  that 
they  must  be  changeless,  while  in  point  of  fact  they  do  continu- 
ally change.  We  have  identified  their  consciousness  with  the 
manner  in  which  the  whole  exists  for  each  of  the  fundamental 
differentiations.  But,  if  this  is  so,  it  would  seem  to  follow  that 
every  self  must  be  in  complete  and  conscious  harmony  with  the 
whole  of  the  universe.  This  is  not  in  accordance  with  facts. 
Our  knowledge  is  Hmited,  it  is  often  erroneous,  and  when  we 
do  know  facts,  our  desires  are  often  not  in  harmony  with  the 
facts  which  we  know. 

39.  The  difficulty  is  no  doubt  serious  enough.  But  it  is 
not,  I  think,  any  objection  to  our  interpretation  of  Hegel, 
because  it  is  a  difficulty  which  applies  equally  to  all  idealistic 
theories,  however  interpreted.  It  is  nothing  less  than  the  old 
difficulty  of  the  origin  of  evil.  And  for  this,  as  I  have  tried  to 
show  elsewhere^,  ideaUsm  has  no  definite  solution.  AU  that 
can  be  done  is  to  show  that  the  difficulties  are  as  serious  if  we 
deny  reality  to  be  perfect,  as  they  are  if  we  affirm  it,  and  to 
point  out  a  direction  in  which  it  is  not  altogether  unreasonable 
to  hope  for  the  advent  of  some  solution  at  present  unimaginable 
by  us.  This  is  certainly  not  much,  but  it  does  not  seem  that 
we  are  entitled  at  present  to  any  more. 

The  Absolute,  according  to  Hegel,  is  timeless  and  perfect. 
In  this  conclusion  most  idealistic  systems  would  agree.  We 
find  around  us  and  in  us,  however,  a  world  which  changes  in 
time,  and  which  is  far  from  perfect.  Yet  the  Absolute  is  the 
only  reality  of  this  world.  How,  then,  are  we  to  account  for 
^  Cp.  Studies  in  the  Hegelian  Dialectic,  chapi,  v. 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  35 

the  change  and  the  imperfection?  It  is  in  this  form  that  the 
problem  of  evil  presents  itself  to  idealism. 

If  we  take  the  selves  to  be  the  fundamental  difEerentiations 
of  the  Absolute,  and  therefore  timeless  and  perfect,  the  question 
will  of  course  be  raised  why,  in  that  case,  the  selves  appear  as 
changeable  and  imperfect.  And  to  this  question  no  answer  has 
been  given.  But  we  shall  not  avoid  the  difficulty  by  giving  up 
our  theory.  For  the  selves,  whether  fundamental  or  not,  still 
exist,  and  have  to  be  accounted  for.  The  only  reality  is  the 
Absolute,  which  is  timeless  and  perfect.  The  question  will  now 
take  this  form — Why  does  a  timeless  and  perfect  Absolute 
appear  as  changeable  and  imperfect  selves?  And  it  is  as  im- 
possible to  return  any  answer  to  this  question  as  to  the  other. 
The  gap  between  the  perfect  and  imperfect  has  to  come  in 
somewhere.  The  difficulty  is  the  same  whether  we  place  the 
true  nature  of  the  selves  on  the  side  of  perfection,  and  find  the 
gulf  between  that  and  their  appearances,  or  whether  we  take 
the  selves  as  imperfect,  and  then  find  the  gulf  between  them 
and  the  Absolute. 

Since  this  difficulty,  then,  applies  to  any  idealist  theory,  it 
can  be  no  special  reason  against  ours.  And  we  can  therefore 
rest,  as  before,  on  the  considerations  that  the  selves,  if  they 
perfectly  realised  the  nature  which  they  possess,  would  corre- 
spond to  the  difEerentiations  of  the  Absolute,  which  nothing  else 
that  we  know  or  can  imagine  does,  and  also,  that  the  selves,  in 
spite  of  their  imperfections,  show  characteristics  which  are 
inexpUcable  if  they  are  not  among  those  differentiations.  And 
thus  our  proper  conclusion  would  seem  to  be  that  all  selves  are 
timeless  and  perfect,  as  the  Absolute  is,  but  that  they,  like  the 
Absolute  of  which  they  are  the  difEerentiations,  appear  under 
the  forms  of  time  and  imperfection. 

40.  Another  difficulty  which  may  be  raised  is  that  the 
activities  most  prominent  in  ourselves  are  knowledge  and  will. 
Now  neither  of  these,  it  may  be  said,  are  examples  of  the 
Absolute  Idea  at  all,  but  rather  of  the  previous  category  which 
Hegel  names  Cognition.  For  in  the  Absolute  Idea  the  harmony 
is  not  produced  by  the  subordination  of  one  side  to  the  other. 
It  is  the  essential  nature  of  each  side  to  be  in  such  a  harmony, 

3—2 


36  HUMAN   IMMOETALITY 

and  the  idea  of  subordination  becomes  meaningless.  This  is 
not  the  case  with  knowledge  and  will.  In  knowledge  we 
condemn  our  thought  as  false  if  it  does  not  correspond  to 
the  reality  outside  it,  and  the  harmony  is  thus  produced 
by  the  subordination  of  the  individual  to  the  whole.  In 
will,  on  the  other  hand,  we  condemn  the  reality  as  unsatis- 
factory if  it  does  not  correspond  to  our  desires,  and  the 
harmony  is  thus  produced  by  the  subordination  of  the  whole 
to  the  individual. 

To  this  it  may  be  answered,  in  the  first  place,  that,  besides 
knowledge  and  will,  emotion  is  also  an  activity  of  the  self,  and 
that  it  may  be  plausibly  maintained  that  in  a  harmony  produced 
by  emotion  neither  side  is  subordinated  to  the  other,  but  the 
harmony  is  the  essential  nature  of  each.  But,  besides  this, 
the  dialectic  demonstrates,  by  the  transition  from  Cognition 
to  the  Absolute  Idea,  that,  if  the  whole  does  exist  for  any 
individual,  it  must  be  by  means  of  that  reciprocal  and  equal 
harmony  which  is  expressed  by  the  Absolute  Idea'^.  We  may 
therefore  reasonably  infer,  since  our  souls  show  on  observation 
a  harmony  under  the  category  of  Cognition,  that  they  are  really 
in  harmony  in  the  deeper  manner  characteristic  of  the  Absolute 
Idea. 

41.  The  results  we  have  reached  may  throw  some  light  on 
the  difficult  question  of  personal  identity.  The  self  is  not,  as 
sceptics  maintain,  a  mere  delusion.  Nor  is  it  a  mere  collection 
of  adjectives,  referring  to  no  substance  except  the  Absolute. 
It  is,  on  the  contrary,  itself  a  substance,  existing  in  its  own 
right.  This  does  not  mean,  of  course,  that  any  self  could 
exist  independently,  and  in  isolation  from  all  others.  Each 
self  can  only  exist  in  virtue  of  its  connection  with  all  the 
others,  and  with  the  Absolute  which  is  their  unity.  But  this 
is  a  relation,  not  of  subordination,  but  of  reciprocal  dependence. 
If  each  self  is  dependent  on  the  others,  they  in  turn  are 
dependent  on  it.  If  the  self  has  no  meaning,  except  as  mani- 
festing the  Absolute,  the  Absolute  has  no  meaning  except  as 
manifested  in  that  self.  The  self  is  not  an  isolated  substance 
but  it  may  be  properly  called  a  substance. 
1  Cp.  Section  20. 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  37 

In  the  identity  of  the  substance  lies,  it  seems  to  me,  the 
personal  identity.  This  is  a  rather  unfashionable  mode  of 
expression,  and  it  will  be  necessary  to  remember  that  we  are 
speaking  of  the  substance  as  it  really  is,  and  not  of  any 
abstraction  of  substantiality,  and,  moreover,  that  we  are 
speaking  of  the  personal  identity  itself,  and  not  of  the  signs 
by  which  we  may  infer  its  existence. 

42.  It  would  be  absurd  to  place  personal  identity  in  the 
imaginary  identity  of  substance  regardless  of  any  continuity  of 
attributes.  The  substance  taken  apart  from  its  attributes  could 
never  be  the  basis  of  personal  identity.  For  all  substances,  if 
abstraction  were  made  of  their  attributes,  are  absolutely  indis- 
tinguishable, and  the  distinction  between  persons  would  be 
non-existent.  And,  indeed,  we  may  go  further,  for  a  substance 
without  attributes  is  inconceivable,  and  if  personal  identity 
rested  in  this  it  would  vanish.  But  when  we  talk  of  an  identity 
of  substance  we  do  not  mean  any  such  imaginary  Ding  an  sich. 
Substance  is  nothing  apart  from  its  attributes,  as  the  attributes 
are  nothing  apart  from  the  substance,  and  when  we  place 
personal  identity  in  the  identity  of  the  substance,  we  speak  of 
a  substance  manifesting  itself  in  its  attributes. 

Why,  then,  emphasise  the  substance?  The  reason  for  this 
is  as  follows — all  attributes  must  be  referred  to  some  substance. 
But,  according  to  some  idealistic  systems,  a  self  is  merely  a 
bundle  of  attributes,  whose  substance  is  the  Absolute.  The  self 
has  no  substance  of  its  own,  but  is  merely  a  phenomenon  of  the 
Absolute.  On  this  view  the  identity  of  the  self  could  not  be  an 
identity  of  substance,  as  all  selves  are  attributes  of  the  same 
substance.  We  have  taken  a  view  which  puts  the  self  higher, 
and  makes  each  self,  not  an  attribute  of  one  sole  self-subsistent 
substance,  but  itself  a  self-subsistent  substance,  though  not 
an  isolated  one.  (True  self -subsistence  is  incompatible  with 
isolation.  We  can  only  get  self-determination  by  means  of 
determination  by  others.)  This  view  is  brought  out  by  calling 
the  personal  identity  an  identity  of  substance. 

Since  substance  and  attributes  are  only  two  aspects  of  the 
same  reality,  the  identical  substance  will  have  identical  attri- 
butes.   It  might  seem  at  first  sight  as  if  identity  of  attributes 


38  HUMAN   IMMORTALITY 

was  not  a  condition  of  personal  identity.  For  the  whole  question 
of  that  identity  can  only  arise  when  there  is  change  of  some 
sort,  and,  if  a  thing  changes,  how  can  its  attributes  be  identical  ? 
In  all  the  changes,  however,  which  the  character  of  a  thing  or 
a  person  may  undergo,  there  is  an  aspect  which  is  permanent 
and  unchanging,  and  it  is  on  that  aspect  that  our  attention  is 
fixed  when  we  speak  of  identity  of  attributes  through  change. 
For  example,  a  man  who  was  honourable  in  his  youth  meets 
with  certain  temptations,  and  becomes  a  scoundrel  in  old  age. 
From  one  point  of  view  this  is  a  considerable  change  in  his 
attributes.  But  from  another  they  are  unchanged.  For,  while  he 
was  still  an  honourable  man,  it  was  part  of  his  character  that, 
under  certain  circumstances,  he  would  become  a  scoundrel. 
And,  after  that  has  occurred,  it  is  still  part  of  his  character — 
still  a  predicate  which  may  be  applied  to  him  and  may  help  to 
describe  him — that,  before  those  circumstances  occurred,  he  was 
an  honourable  man.  It  is  this  identity  of  attributes  which  is 
involved,  I  think,  in  personal  identity. 

There  is  a  very  real  difference,  certainly,  between  a  potential 
and  an  actual  characteristic,  and  the  permanent  element  which 
persists  all  through  change  does  not  explain  that  change  away, 
or  render  it  less  perplexing.  But  the  permanent  element  does 
exist,  and  it  is  in  respect  of  that  element  that,  in  spite  of  the 
change,  we  ascribe  personal  identity  to  the  changed  person. 
The  question  presents  itself — unfortunately  without  an  answer 
— how  a  permanent  and  changeless  character  comes  to  develop 
itself  in  time  and  change.  But  this  is  only  part  of  the  larger 
problem — equally  insoluble — how  change  of  any  sort  is  possible, 
when  the  ultimate  reality  is  a  timeless  Absolute. 

43.  This  view  seems  to  avoid  several  difficulties  which 
stand  in  the  way  of  the  theory  that  personal  identity  consists  in 
memory.  Personal  identity,  no  doubt,  is  the  identity  of  a 
conscious  being,  but  it  does  not  at  all  follow  from  this  that  it 
must  be  an  identity  of  which  the  possessor  is  conscious.  Such 
a  theory,  to  begin  with,  makes  personal  identity  something  which 
continually  fluctuates.  I  may  have  completely  forgotten  some 
past  episode  in  my  life,  and  then  be  vividly  reminded  of  it  by 
discovering  an  old  letter.    If  identity  lies  simply  in  memory,  we 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  39 

must  hold  that  I  had  ceased  to  be  identical  with  the  person 
who  had  taken  part  in  those  events,  and  that,  after  I  had  found 
the  letter,  I  became  identical  with  him  again. 

We  do  not  only  forget  what  is  insignificant.  We  often 
forget  events  which  make  a  profound  difference  to  the  whole 
of  our  future  lives,  because  we  were  too  young  or  too  dull  to 
appreciate  their  significance.  And  no  man  could  possibly 
remember  all  the  acts  or  forbearances,  each  by  itself  trifling, 
which  helped  to  form  his  character.  And  yet  it  was  surely  he 
who  did  them.  If  the  man  who  instinctively  acts  unselfishly  in 
an  emergency  were  not  the  same  man  whose  forgotten  choices 
of  unselfishness  have  determined  that  instinctive  action,  would 
personal  identity  have  any  meaning  at  all? 

And  if  the  past  cannot  form  part  of  our  personal  identity 
unless  it  is  remembered,  what  about  a  past  that  is  remembered, 
but  has  never  taken  place?  George  the  Fourth  said,  and 
apparently  in  good  faith,  that  he  remembered  that  he  had 
fought  at  Waterloo.  Similar  delusions  can  be  produced  by 
hypnotism.  The  belief  in  the  patient's  mind  is  exactly  the 
same  as  if  it  were  a  case  of  truthful  memory.  If,  then,  it  is  this 
belief  on  which  personal  identity  hangs,  it  would  seem  that 
personal  identity  must  be  admitted  here.  And  yet  would  any 
one  be  prepared  to  say  that,  if  A  could  be  made  by  hypnotism 
to  "remember"  B's  past,  he  would  thereupon  become  identical 
with  5? 

Nor  does  personal  identity  seem  to  have  much  meaning 
if  it  loses  its  connection  with  the  special  and  unique  interest 
which  we  feel  in  our  own  futm-e  as  distinguished  from  that  of 
anyone  else.  Our  interest  in  the  well-being  of  others  may  be 
as  real  as  our  interest  in  our  own,  it  may  even  be  stronger,  but 
it  is  never  the  same.  Now  suppose  a  man  could  be  assured 
that  in  a  short  time  he  would  lose  for  ever  all  memory  of  the 
past.  Would  he  consider  this  to  be  annihilation,  and  take  no 
more  interest  in  the  person  of  similar  character  who  would 
occupy  his  old  body  than  he  would  in  any  stranger  ?  Or  would 
a  man  approaching  the  gate  of  hell  lose  all  selfish  regret  for  his 
position  if  he  was  assured  that  memory,  as  well  as  hope,  must 
be  left  behind  on  his  entrance?    It  is  not,  I  think,  found  that 


40  HUMAN   IMMORTALITY 

believers  in  transmigration  are  indifferent  to  their  fate  after 
their  next  death.  And  yet  they  believe,  in  the  majority  of 
cases,  that  the  next  death  will,  for  the  time  at  least,  break  the 
chain  of  memory  as  completely  as  the  last  did. 

44.  Another  theory  which  has  been  held  on  this  subject  is 
that  personal  identity  consists  simply  in  continuity  of  character. 
We  must  hold  a  and  ^  to  be  successive  states  of  the  same 
person,  if  the  effect  of  the  circumstances  in  which  a  occurred 
would  be  to  change  a  into  fS  by  the  time  we  observe  ^.  This 
theory  is  prominent  in  Buddhist  metaphysics.  Its  practical 
results  are  the  same  as  those  of  the  theory  I  have  advocated 
above — that  is,  it  would  affirm  and  deny  personal  identity 
wherever  the  other  theory  affirmed  or  denied  it.  For  identity 
of  substance,  we  saw,  was  only  the  other  side  of  identity  of 
attributes,  and  identity  of  attributes  must  reveal  itself  in  time 
as  an  ordered  succession  of  changes,  of  which  each  determines 
the  next.  So  that,  admitting  that  personal  identity  lay  in 
identity  of  substance,  our  way  of  determining  whether  two 
states  belonged  to  the  same  person  would  be  to  endeavour  to 
trace  a  causal  relation  between  them.  The  difference  between 
the  two  theories  is  one  of  explanation,  not  of  application.  The 
theory  as  held  by  Buddhists  is  involved  in  all  the  difl&culties  of 
extreme  sensationalism.  For  it  denies  the  existence  of  all  sub- 
stance, and  makes  the  self  into  a  bundle  of  attributes,  which  are 
attributes  of  nothing. 

45.  In  attempting,  as  I  have  attempted,  to  demonstrate 
the  immortality  of  the  self  as  a  consequence  of  an  idealist 
system,  it  is  impossible  to  forget  that  the  latest  idealist  system 
considers  immortality  to  be  improbable.  Mr  Bradley's  authority 
on  this  point  is  very  great.  He  does  not  call  himself  a  Hegelian. 
But  few  professed  Hegelians,  if  any,  understand  the  secret  of 
Hegel's  philosophy  so  well.  And  few  professed  Hegelians,  I  will 
venture  to  say,  are  so  thoroughly  Hegelian  in  spirit.  His 
definition  of  the  Absolute,  too,  has  much  resemblance  to  Hegel's. 
It  is  therefore  of  the  greatest  importance  to  us  that  he  should 
have  come  to  a  negative  decision  about  immortality^. 

^  Appearance  and  Reality,  chap.  xxvt.  p.  501.  My  references  are  to  the 
edition  of  1897. 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  41 

His  main  reason  for  doing  so  is  his  belief  that  the  idea  of 
the  self  cannot  be  considered  as  an  adequate  representation  of 
reality.  He  discusses,  from  this  point  of  view,  several  meanings 
which  may  be  given  to  the  word  self^.  With  regard  to  all  of 
these  meanings  but  one,  few  people,  I  think,  would  disagree 
with  his  conclusion  that  they  are  too  confused  and  contradictory 
to  be  accepted  as  adequate  to  reality.  But  when  we  come  to 
the  self  as  the  subject  of  knowledge,  the  reasons  given  for  re- 
jecting it  do  not  seem  so  satisfactory. 

He  objects  that  we  cannot  find  in  the  self  any  content  which 
is  always  subject  and  never  object.  Or,  if  we  can,  at  most  it  is 
the  pure  I,  which,  taken  by  itself,  is  completely  trivial,  indeed 
unmeaning,  and  cannot  be  accepted  as  a  key  to  the  nature  of  all 
reality.  Whatever  is  object,  however,  is  not-self,  and  thus  the 
self  dwindles  away  on  examination.  If  we  take  what  is  pure 
self  only,  we  have  an  unmeaning  abstraction.  If  we  take  in  any 
content,  we  find  that  it  is — at  any  rate  potentially— not-self^. 

46.  All  this  is  doubtless  quite  true.  The  only  element  in 
self  wliich  is  self  and  nothing  else  is  an  abstraction,  which,  taken 
by  itself,  is  a  nonentity.  And  the  self  had  only  reality  by 
including  in  itself  that  which  is  just  as  much  not-self.  But  it  is 
not  clear  why  this  should  be  considered  as  affecting  the  adequacy 
of  the  idea  of  self. 

If  any  person,  indeed,  were  to  assert  that  the  self  was  an 
adequate  representation  of  reality,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
identify  the  self  with  the  pure  I,  taken  in  abstraction  from 
anything  else,  his  position  would  be  absolutely  untenable. 
But  the  knowdng  self  is  not  at  all  identical  with  the  puie  I, 
which,  if  taken  in  abstraction,  neither  knows  anything  nor  is 
anything.  The  knowing  self  is  a  concrete  whole  of  which 
the  pure  I  is  one  abstract  element.  It  is  doubtless  an  in- 
dispensable element.  It  is  doubtless  meaningless  when  taken 
in  abstraction.  But  between  these  two  facts  there  is  no  con- 
tradiction. Whenever  one  element  of  a  concrete  whole  is 
taken  in  abstraction  the  same  thing  recurs.  Taken  by  itself 
it  is   meaningless,   for  it  is  only  an  element,   and  can  only 

^  op.  cit.  chaps,  ix  and  x. 

*  (yp.  cit.  chap.  ix.  pp.  88 — 96. 


42  HUMAN   IMMORTALITY 

exist  in  combination  with  the  other  element.  But  it  is  also 
essential,  for,  if  it  is  withdrawn,  it  leaves  nothing  but  another 
abstract  element,  and  this  by  itself  would  also  be  meaningless. 
■  The  other  element,  besides  the  pure  I,  which  is  found  in 
the  knowing  self  is  the  not-self.  Why  should  this  not  be  so? 
It  is  doubtless  paradoxical  in  the  highest  degree,  as  has  been 
pointed  out  above.  The  self  can  only  exist  in  so  far  as  its 
content  is  both  in  and  outside  it.  By  the  very  act  of  knowledge 
it  at  once  accepts  the  content  as  part  of  itself,  and  repels  it 
as  an  independent  reality.  And  thus  no  limits  can  be  put 
to  the  self.  For  if  we  exclude  whatever  is  not  self,  the  self 
shrinks  to  a  point,  and  vanishes  altogether.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  we  include  all  that  is  self,  it  includes  all  of  which 
we  are  conscious,  and,  in  the  ideal  self,  would  include  the 
whole  of  reahty. 

But  is  there  any  reason  why  this  should  induce  Mr  Bradley 
to  reject  the  idea  of  self  as  inadequate?  His  own  idea  of 
the  Absolute  is  highly  paradoxical,  and  yet  he  rightly  declines 
to  see  in  this  any  objection  to  its  truth ^.  And  if  thfe  idea 
of  the  Absolute  is  paradoxical,  it  is  surely  to  be  expected 
that,  if  we  are  able  to  arrive  at  an  adequate  idea  of  the 
differentiations  of  the  Absolute,  that  idea  will  also  be  para- 
doxical. If  the  abstract  understanding  cannot  accept  the  truth 
about  the  unity,  is  it  probable  that  it  will  be  able  to  accept 
the  truth  about  the  plurality  which  adequately  expresses 
that  unity?  It  would  seem  that  it  is  rather  the  absence  of 
paradox  than  its  presence  that  should  be  looked  upon  with 
suspicion  here. 

The  adequacy  of  the  idea,  of  course,  is  not  in  the  least 
proved  by  its  paradoxical  nature.  It  could  only  be  proved 
by  a  detailed  deduction  from  the  nature  of  the  Absolute,  of 
the  kind  which  I  have  attempted  above.  What  I  contend 
here  is,  that  the  idea  is  not  proved  to  be  false  because  it  is 
paradoxical. 

47.  Treating  more  directly  of  immortality,  Mr  Bradley 
points  out  that  our  desire  for  immortality  affords  no  reasonable 

^  Cp.  e.g.  op.  cit.  chap.  xv.  pp.  175 — 183. 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  43 

ground  for  believing  in  it^.  This  cannot  be  denied.  An 
idealistic  theory  of  the  universe  may  perhaps  justify  us  in 
believing  that  the  fundamental  nature  of  spirit  will  eventually 
gain  its  full  realisation,  and  that  all  desires  which  really  express 
that  fundamental  nature  will  be  gratified.  But  then  what 
human  desires  do  really  express  the  fundamental  nature  of 
spirit?  That  could  only  be  settled  by  an  investigation  into 
the  nature  of  reality  so  thorough  that  it  would  probably  settle 
the  question  of  immortality  in  a  less  circuitous  fashion  by 
directly  deducing  its  necessity  or  impossibility.  Our  field  of 
observation  is  too  small  to  make  induction  of  the  least  value. 
A  large  proportion  of  the  western  world,  no  doubt,  desire 
immortality.  But  even  if  the  whole  human  race  had  done 
so  from  the  beginning  of  history  (and  this  is  notoriously  not 
the  case),  this  would  have  no  more  force  than  the  desire 
entertained  by  a  certain  proportion  of  them  that  the  wicked 
should  spend  their  eternal  life  in  everlasting  torment. 

48.  Mr  Bradley  seems  to  doubt  if  immortality  would  give 
the  relief  for  the  sake  of  which  it  is  demanded^.  He  says, 
■u4th  profound  truth,  that  the  partings  made  by  life  are  harder 
to  bear  than  those  made  by  death.  But  are  not  the  partings 
of  life  one  of  those  troubles  for  which  the  help  of  immortality 
is  most  passionately  demanded?  In  proportion  as  love  has 
prospered  on  earth,  its  cessation  at  death  seems  less  intolerable. 
For  in  such  fruition,  however  short,  there  is  an  element  of 
eternity,  which,  so  far  as  it  goes,  makes  its  cessation  in  time 
irrelevant^.    It  is  when  the  mischances  either  of  life  or  death 

^  op.  cit.  chap.  XXVI.  p.  507. 

*  op.  cit.  chap.  XXVI.  p.  509. 

'  It  is  not,  I  think,  justifiable  to  carry  this  Une  of  thought  so  far  as  to 
assert  that  a  state  of  consciousness  can  ever  rise  so  high  that  its  duration 
or  extinction  in  time  should  be  completely  irrelevant.  It  is  true  that  if  such 
a  state  reached  absolute  perfection,  it  would  not  matter  if  it  were  extinguished 
immediately  afterwards.  But  why  is  this  ?  Only  because  a  perfect  state  is  an 
eternal  one,  and  the  eternal  does  not  require  duration  in  time  for  its  perfections 
to  be  displayed  in.  But  then  the  eternal  is  the  timeless,  and  therefore  its  end 
in  time  is  not  only  unimportant,  but  impossible.  On  the  other  hand,  if  a  state 
does  end  in  time,  it  is  not  completely  eternal,  or  completely  perfect,  and  then  its 
end  in  time  is  not  absolutely  irrelevant. 

If  we  deny  that  a  perfect  state  is  eternal,  we  have  no  reason  to  suppose  that 


44  HUMAN   IMMORTALITY 

have  interfered  between  the  birth  and  the  fulness  of  emotion 
that  our  longing  for  another  chance  is  strongest  and  deepest. 
These  however  are  questions  which  philosophy  can  presume 
neither  to  neglect  nor  to  discuss  at  length^. 

And  would  immortality  help  us?  On  this  point,  also, 
Mr  Bradley  seems  doubtful.  Much  depends,  no  doubt,  on 
whether  we  are  to  hold  that  time,  taking  reality  as  a  whole, 
brings  progress  with  it.  The  point  is  too  large  to  be  discussed 
in  passing.  Of  course,  on  Hegel's  system,  we  cannot  regard 
progress  as  ultimately  real.  But  then  neither  can  we,  on  that 
system,  regard  time  or  imperfection  as  ultimately  real.  And 
the  more  probable  conclusion  seems  to  be  that  progress  is  as 
real  as  the  imperfection  for  the  removal  of  which  it  is  needed^. 

Even,  however,  if  this  were  not  so,  and  we  had  reason  to 
suppose  the  world  not  to  be  progressing  in  time,  but  to  be  on 
a  dead  level,  that  dead  level,  I  think,  would  be  higher  if  selves 
were  immortal  than  if  they  were  not.  For  the  deepest  longings 
of  our  nature  are  also  the  most  persistent.  It  is  easy  enough, 
as  experience  shows,  for  unfavourable  circumstances  to  thwart 
them  for  the  space  of  a  single  life.  But  it  would  be  far  more 
improbable  that  the  circumstances  should  never  become  favour- 
able to  them  throughout  a  duration  indefinitely  prolonged. 
And,  in  matters  of  this  kind,  gain,  once  achieved,  is  not  alto- 
gether cancelled  by  a  subsequent  loss. 

49.  Lotze  adds  another  to  the  list  of  the  idealists  who 
consider  that  we  have  no  evidence  for  immortahty.  We  have 
only  "  this  general  idealistic  conviction ;  that  every  created  thing 
will  continue,  if  and  so  long  as  its  continuance  belongs  to  the 
meaning  of  the  world;  that  everything  will  pass  away  which 
had  its  authorised  place  only  in  a  transitory  phase  of  the  world's 
course.  That  this  principle  admits  of  no  further  application  in 
human  hands  hardly  needs  to  be  mentioned.    We  certainly  do 


a  perfect  state  is  indifferent  to  its  duration.  But  if  the  perfect  is  the  eternal, 
it  seems  quite  clear  that  no  state,  which  is  imperfect  enough  to  cease  in  time, 
can  be  perfect  enough  to  entirely  disregard  its  cessation. 

^  A  more  adequate  consideration  of  this  subject  than  is  possible  in  prose  wiU 
be  found  in  "The  Lost  Leader,"  and  "Evelyn  Hope." 

*  Cp.  Studies  in  the  Hegelian  Dialectic,  Section  175. 


HUMAN    IMMORTALITY  45 

not  know  the  merits  which  may  give  to  one  existence  a  claim  to 
eternity,  nor  the  defects  which  deny  it  to  others^." 

50.  Lotze's  philosophy,  as  has  been  generally  admitted, 
bears  a  resemblance  on  many  points  to  Hegel's.  His  opinion, 
however,  need  not  inspire  any  doubts  in  us  as  to  the  Hegelian 
character  of  a  belief  in  immortality,  for  he  differs  from  Hegel 
on  the  very  point  which  is  of  cardinal  importance  for  this  belief, 
namely  the  relation  of  the  differentiations  of  the  unity  to  the 
unity  itself. 

In  his  Metaphysic  he  demonstrates  that  the  universe  must 
be  fundamentally  one.  But  what  he  does  not  demonstrate  is 
that  it  is  also  fundamentally  many.  In  demonstrating  its 
fundamental  unity  he  started  from  the  point  of  view  of 
common  sense  and  physical  science  which  regards  the  universe 
as  a  manifold  only  externally  connected.  And  he  seems  to  have 
assumed  that  so  much  of  this  view  was  true  as  made  the 
universe  a  manifold,  and  to  have  thought  it  only  necessary 
to  correct  it  by  showing  that  it  was  equally  really  a  unity. 
But  in  metaphysics  it  is  not  safe  to  trust  to  the  uncritical 
beliefs  of  common  life.  They  must  in  a  sense  be  our  starting- 
point,  but  only  to  be  criticised,  not  to  be  accepted  in  their  own 
right.  And  as  Lotze  had  just  been  proving  that  half  of  the 
common-sense  view,  the  merely  external  connection  of  the 
manifold,  was  erroneous,  it  is  curious  that  he  should  not  have 
seen  that  the  other  half,  if  it  was  to  be  retained,  would 
require  demonstration.  Thus  the  result  of  his  treatment  in  the 
Metaphysic  is  that  the  unity  is  in  a  position  of  greater  impor- 
tance and  security  than  the  differentiation.  For  it  has  been 
demonstrated  that  the  universe  must  be  fundamentally  one, 
but  not  that  it  must  be  fundamentally  many. 

When  we  pass  to  Lotze's  treatment  of  the  Philosophy  of 
Religion  we  find  this  unity  changed  in  its  character.  In  the 
Metaphysic  it  had  no  name  but  M.  It  was  scarcely  suggested 
that  it  was  spiritual.  Its  main  function  was  to  permit  inter- 
action between  its  various  manifestations.  But  now  it  has 
been  transformed  into  a  personal  God.  There  is  no  reason  to 
doubt  that  Lotze's  mature  judgment  held  this  transition  to  be 
^  Metaphysic,  Section  246. 


46  HUMAN   IMMORTALITY 

valid.  His  fullest  treatment,  indeed,  of  the  unity  as  a  personal 
God,  is  in  the  Microcosmus,  which  is  earher  than  the  Metaphysic. 
But  the  Lectures  on  the  Philosophy  of  Religion  take  the  same 
line  as  the  Microcosmus.  And  we  must  therefore  take  the  M  of 
the  Metaphysic  as  only  a  provisional  stage  in  the  process  of 
determining  all  reality  as  a  personal  God. 

This  change  in  the  nature  of  M  rendered  it  very  desirable 
that  Lotze  should  be  able  to  consider  the  unity  as  deeper  than 
its  plurality  of  manifestations,  and  as  not  exhausted  by  them. 
It  might  be  possible  to  consider  a  unity  as  personal,  even  if  it 
was  completely  manifested  in  a  system  of  persons^.  (It  must 
be  remembered  that  Lotze  held  that  we  could  not  conceive  the 
finite  manifestations  of  the  Absolute  except  as  conscious.)  But 
it  is  clear  that  it  would  be  much  easier  to  conceive  it  as  personal, 
if  it  were  taken  as  being  more  than  could  be  expressed  in  such 
manifestations,  and  as  being  logically  prior  to  them,  instead  of 
being  simply  their  complement.  Moreover,  for  ethical  and 
religious  reasons  Lotze  was  anxious  to  make  his  God  something 
higher  than  the  world  of  plurality,  and,  therefore,  something 
more  than  the  unity  of  that  plurality. 

This  he  was  enabled  to  do,  because,  as  we  have  seen,  he  had, 
in  his  determination  of  M  in  the  Metaphysic,  left,  perhaps 
unconsciously,  the  unity  in  a  much  stronger  position  than  the 
plurahty,  having  proved  the  necessity  of  the  one,  and  not  of 
the  other.  And,  now,  when  M  had  developed  into  a  personal 
God,  the  same  characteristic  was  preserved.  His  God  is  not 
quite  the  God  of  ordinary  theology.  For  he  is  not  merely  the 
highest  reality,  but  the  only  reality,  and  (in  spite  of  various 
occasional  expressions  to  the  contrary)  Lotze  appears  still  to 
take  the  finite  world  as  God's  manifestation  rather  than  his 
creature.  But  there  is  no  logical  equality  between  the  unity 
which  is  Lotze's  God  and  the  plurality  which  is  his  world.  The 
plurality  is  dependent  on  the  unity,  but  not  the  unity  on  the 
plurality.  The  only  existence  of  the  world  is  in  God,  but  God's 
only  existence  is  not  in  the  world. 

51.     We  have  not  to  enquire  if  this  theory  is  tenable.    It 
is  sufficient  that  it  is  Lotze's  theory,  and  that  it  would  make 
^  This  will  be  discussed  in  the  next  chapter,  Section  88. 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  47 

any  demonstration  of  immortality  quite  impossible.  Our  only 
guarantee  of  the  immortality  of  a  self  would  be  a  demonstration 
that  the  existence  of  that  self  was  essential  to  the  Absolute. 
And  this  could  only  be  the  case  if  it  were  a  necessity  for  the 
Absolute  to  manifest  itself  in  that  particular  self.  Now  the 
personal  God  who  is  Lotze's  Absolute  has  no  such  necessity  as 
part  of  his  nature.  He  exists  otherwise  than  as  he  is  manifested. 
And  from  this  Lotze  is  justified  in  drawing  the  conclusion  that 
he  could  exist  with  different  manifestations  from  those  which 
he  at  present  has.  For  the  present  manifestations  could  cease 
without  God  being  changed.  And  it  is  only  his  nature  of  whose 
permanence  we  are  assured. 

But  all  this  is  based  on  one  of  the  points  where  Lotze 
differs  from  Hegel, — the  elevation  of  the  unity  of  the  Absolute 
above  its  differentiation  as  more  fundamental.  And  conse- 
quently Lotze's  rejection  of  immortality  cannot  give  us  the  least 
reason  to  suppose  that  a  similar  rejection  would  be  consequent 
on,  or  compatible  with,  Hegel's  philosophy.  For  with  Hegel 
the  unity  and  the  plurality  are  strictly  correlative.  The  plu- 
rality has  no  meaning  except  to  be  combined  into  the  unity. 
But  the  unity  has  no  meaning  except  to  be  differentiated  into 
the  plurality.  And  not  into  some  plurality  or  the  other,  but 
into  that  particular  plurality.  And  so  we  must  reject  the 
foundation  of  Lotze's  argument — the  possibility  of  changing  the 
plurality  without  affecting  the  unity. 

52.  Lotze  has  another  objection  to  immortality.  He  is 
considering  the  argument  for  immortality  which  might  be 
derived  from  the  view  of  the  soul  as  a  "stable  atom"  in  a  world 
whose  unity  is  only  external.  Of  this  reasoning  he  says,  "we 
might  be  glad  to  accept  its  guarantee  for  immortality... but  the 
other  conclusion  which  is  forced  on  us  at  the  same  time,  the 
infinite  pre-existence  of  the  soul  before  the  fife  we  know, 
remains,  like  the  immortality  of  the  souls  of  all  animals,  strange 
and  improbable^."  The  conception  of  the  self  as  a  stable  atom 
is  not,  of  com-se,  the  one  which  we  have  put  forward.  But  our 
view  also  seems  to  involve  the  pre-existence  of  the  self  in  time. 
The  universe  was  certainly  manifesting  itself  in  time  before  I 
Metaphysic,  Section  246. 


48  HUMAN   IMMORTALITY 

was  born.  And  to  suppose  that  parts  of  reality  could  be  in 
time,  while  other  parts  were  not,  scarcely  seems  compatible  with 
the  unity  of  all  reality.  The  more  probable  hypothesis  is  that 
the  whole  of  reality,  in  itself  timeless,  is  manifested  throughout 
the  whole  of  time.  The  infinite  pre-existence  of  the  self  would 
not  necessarily  follow  from  this.  For,  at  any  rate,  there  is  no 
greater  contradiction  in  supposing  time  to  have  begun,  than  in 
supposing  that  an  infinite  series  has  elapsed.  But  its  pre- 
existence  throughout  time  would  be  a  fair  inference.  Nor  is 
there  anything  about  the  present  existence  of  each  of  us  which 
would  suggest  the  view  that  it  was,  in  each  case,  the  first  of 
a  series  destined  to  be  indefinitely  prolonged. 

53.  Our  lives  indeed  are  so  fragmentary  that,  in  trying  to 
explain  them,  we  are  almost  tied  down  to  two  alternatives — 
either  they  mean  nothing,  or  they  are  episodes  in  a  long  chain. 
That  they  should  mean  nothing — or  at  least  nothing  except  as 
a  means  to  something  else — is  not  compatible  with  the  view  of 
the  self  which  we  have  been  led  to  adopt.  And  any  attempt 
to  give  them  meaning  would  seem  to  require  that  they  should 
not  be  the  only  manifestations  in  time  of  the  selves  which 
experience  them,  but  should  form  part  of  a  longer  process, 
stretching  before  as  well  as  after. 

Neither  this  nor  any  other  hypothesis  can  explain  for  us 
the  ultimate  mystery  why  any  evil  or  unhappiness  exists.  But 
this  hypothesis  might  at  any  rate  enable  us  to  see  some 
possibility  of  an  explanation  why  they  seem  to  us,  who  can  only 
see  one  life  of  each  self  at  once,  to  be  so  unequally  distributed. 
The  evidence  which  we  could  gain  by  such  empirical  observation, 
indeed,  could  never  by  itself  be  strong  enough  to  give  any  reason 
for  belief  in  our  pre-existence.  But  what  little  weight  it  has, 
will  be  on  that  side. 

Lotze  calls  this  belief  strange  and  unsatisfactory.  If  he 
means  by  its  strangeness  that  it  is  unusual,  he  has  made  no 
very  serious  objection.  And  it  is  only  unusual  if  we  limit 
ourselves  to  the  western  world.  For  its  strangeness,  if 
strangeness  means  extravagance,  and  for  its  unsatisfactori- 
ness,  he  does  not  give  any  arguments.  And  till  some  are 
given,  the  mere  assertion  is  not  of  much  importance.    There 


HUMAN    IMMORTALITY  49 

seems  to  be  an  implication  that  the  idea  of  pre-existence  is 
one  that  we  should  not  accept  willingly.  But  this  would 
prove  nothing  against  its  truth.  A  system  of  idealism,  indeed, 
may  lay  claim  to  so  much  optimism  as  to  beheve  that  the 
universe  is  bound  to  honour  all  the  demands  made  on  it 
by  the  true  nature  of  the  human  spirit.  But  the  present 
and  past  desii-e  of  most,  or  even  of  all  people,  who  now  exist  on 
this  earth,  or  are  known  to  us  through  history,  would  not 
necessarily  be  an  inevitable  and  permanent  demand  of  the 
human  spirit. 

54.  But  why  should  the  belief  in  pre-existence  be  held 
to  be  unsatisfactory?  Mainly,  I  think,  for  this  reason.  We  do 
not  now  remember  anything  of  any  previous  Ufe,  and  if,  never- 
theless, we  have  hved  previously,  there  seems  no  reason  to 
expect  that  we  shall  be  able  to  remember  our  present  lives 
during  subsequent  lives.  And  an  existence  thus  cut  up  into 
comparatively  isolated  lives,  none  of  which  can  remember  any- 
thing but  itself,  may  be  thought  to  have  no  value  from  a 
practical  standpoint.  We  might  as  well  be  mortal,  it  may  be 
maintained,  as  immortal  without  a  memory  beyond  the  present 
Hfe. 

It  is  quite  true  that  a  life  which  remembers  so  small  a  part 
of  itself  must  be  rather  fragmentary.  But  then  this  is  an  objec- 
tion to  all  life  in  time,  whether  it  could  all  be  remembered  or 
not,  for  all  life  in  time  declares  itself,  by  that  very  fact,  to  be 
imperfect.  If  time  is  itself  a  transitory  form,  and  one  with 
which  eternity  will  some  day^  dispense,  then  the  reality  which 
now  forms  a  time-series  will  be  timelessly  present  in  a  way 
which  would  render  memory  quite  superfluous.  But  if  time  is 
to  continue  in  a  never-ending  duration,  then  an  infinite  series 
of  Hves  forgetful  of  the  past  would  not  be  more  meaningless, 
and  would  certainly  be  less  dreary,  than  a  single  unending  hfe 
cursed  with  a  continually  growing  memory  of  its  own  false 
infinity.     If  we  can  get  rid   of  time,   we  can  dispense  with 

^  The  expression  is  no  doubt  flagrantly  contradictory.  But  the  contradiction 
may  perhaps  be  only  a  necessary  consequence  of  considering  time  as  a  whole 
from  inside  time,  and  thus  be  no  evidence  against  the  possibility  of  time's 
eventual  disappearance. 

MCT.  4 


50  HUMAN    IMMORTALITY 

memory.    If  we  cannot  get  rid  of  time,  memory  would  become 
intolerable. 

55.  If  each  life  had  no  effect  on  its  successors,  then,  indeed, 
there  would  be  little  point  in  calling  them  all  lives  of  the  same 
person.  But  no  one  has  suggested  that  this  would  be  the  case. 
If  the  same  self  passes  through  different  lives,  it  is  certain  that 
whatever  modifications  in  its  nature  took  place  in  one  life  would 
be  reproduced  in  the  next.  For  this  is  involved  in  that  con- 
tinuity of  attributes,  which,  as  we  have  seen  above,  is  the  form 
which  personal  identity  takes  sub  s'pecie  temforis.  Death  and 
rebirth,  no  doubt,  are  in  themselves  facts  of  sufficient  importance 
to  modify  a  character  considerably,  but  they  could  only  work 
on  what  was  already  present,  and  the  nature  with  which  each 
individual  starts  in  any  Hfe  would  be  moulded  by  his  actions 
and  experiences  in  the  past. 

The  different  lives  of  each  self,  too,  must  be  regarded  not 
only  as  bound  together  in  a  chain  of  efficient  causaUty,  but  as 
developing  towards  an  end  according  to  final  causality.  For  all 
change  in  time,  for  the  individual  as  well  as  for  the  universe, 
must  be  taken  as  ultimately  determined  by  the  end  of  developing 
as  a  series  the  full  content  of  the  timeless  reahty,  with  no  other 
incompleteness  or  imperfection  than  that  which  is  inseparable 
from  the  form  of  a  series  in  time.  The  steps  of  such  a  process 
would  surely  form  more  than  a  merely  nominal  unity. 

56.  To  such  a  view  as  this  the  objection  has  been  made 
tbat  the  rebirth  of  a  self  without  a  memory  of  its  previous  life 
would  be  exactly  equivalent  to  the  annihilation  of  that  self,  and 
the  creation  of  a  new  self  of  similar  character.  Now,  it  is  argued, 
I  should  not  regard  myself  as  immortal,  if  I  knew  that  I  was  to 
be  annihilated  at  death,  even  if  I  knew  that  an  exactly  similar 
individual  would  then  be  created.  And  therefore,  it  is  urged, 
rebirth  without  memory  cannot  be  considered  as  real  immortality 
of  the  self. 

But  the  objection  supposes  an  impossibility.  There  could 
not  be  another  self  of  exactly  similar  character  to  me.  For  the 
self  is  not  a  Ding  an  sich,  which  can  change  independently  of 
its  qualities.  The  self  is  a  substance  with  attributes,  and  the 
substance  has  no  nature  except  to  express  itself  in  its  attributes. 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  51 

If,  therefore,  the  attributes  were  exactly  the  same,  so  would  the 
substance  be,  and  I  should  not  be  annihilated  at  all.  In  order 
that  there  should  be  a  new  self,  the  annihilation  and  the  creation 
must  cause  a  breach  in  the  continuity  of  the  attributes.  Then 
the  new  self  would  not  be  exactly  similar  to  me,  and  the  parallel 
to  rebirth  fails,  since  with  rebirth  there  is  no  interruption 
whatever  in  the  continuity  of  the  attributes.  Thus  the  con- 
tinuity of  the  attributes  is  always  sufficient  to  preserve  personal 
identity,  not  because  it  would  be  sufficient  if  the  substance 
changed,  but  because  it  proves  that  the  substance  remains 
unchanged. 

But  can  we,  it  may  be  asked,  suppose  that  a  series  of  lives, 
under  different  circumstances  and  with  different  surroundings, 
could  ever  form  a  continuous  development  ?  There  is  no  reason 
that  I  know  of  for  supposing  that  successive  lives  should  show 
sudden  and  discontinuous  variations,  even  in  their  outer  circum- 
stances. But,  if  they  did,  they  might  yet  be  part  of  a  con- 
tinuous development.  For  such  outer  circumstances  are  only 
of  signfficance  as  means  and  expressions  for  the  growth  of  the 
persons  who  live  in  them,  and  a  continuously  developing  end 
may  avail  itself  of  discontinuous  variations  of  the  means. 
What  could  be  more  irrationally  discontinuous  than  the  move- 
ments of  the  members  of  an  orchestra  would  seem  to  a  deaf 
man?  And  yet  the  music  which  they  produce  may  be  a  living 
unity  revealing  itself  in  a  continuous  scheme. 

If  indeed  we  suppose  that  the  circumstances  of  our  successive 
lives  are  determined  by  chance,  or  by  laws  of  merely  efficient 
causation,  the  probability  that  they  could  be  made  subservient 
to  a  continuous  development  would  be  infinitesimal.  But,  if  the 
dialectic  has  taught  us  anything,  it  has  taught  us  that  chance 
does  not  exist,  and  that  efficient  causation  is  a  category  of 
merely  relative  truth,  which  must  be  transcended  when  we  seek 
to  know  reality  adequately.  The  circumstances  of  our  respective 
lives  can  only  be  determined  by  the  true  nature  of  the  Absolute, 
and  can  therefore  afford  no  hindrance  to  the  development  of 
the  true  nature  of  the  Absolute.  Nor,  since  the  whole  is 
perfectly  in  every  part,  can  they  afford  any  hindrance  to  the 
development  of  the  true  nature  of  each  self.    For  any  hindrance 

4—2 


52  HUMAN   IMMORTALITY 

to  the  development  of  any  self  would  be  a  hindrance  to  the 
development  of  the  Absolute. 

Thus  we  may  lay  down  a  general  principle  as  to  the  con- 
tinuity of  external  circumstances  from  life  to  life.  In  so  far 
as  it  is  necessary  to  the  continuous  development  of  the  self, 
it  will  be  present.  In  so  far  as  it  is  not  present,  we  may  be 
sure  that  it  is  not  required  for  the  continuous  development  of 
the  self. 

57.  The  true  nature  of  reality  has  been  shown  to  be  the 
manifestation  of  the  Absolute  in  individuals,  or  the  unity  of 
individuals  in  the  Absolute — in  other  words,  the  relation  of 
self  to  self.  But,  if  the  relations  between  selves  are  the  only 
timeless  reality,  and  the  establishment  of  these  relations  the 
only  progress  in  time — how,  it  may  be  asked,  can  progress  be 
made  in  a  series  of  separate  lives?  If  what  is  experienced 
before  each  death  is  forgotten  after  it,  how  can  any  personal 
relation  survive?  Shall  we  not  be  for  ever  limited  to  the 
amount  which  can  be  developed  in  a  single  life,  and  be  doomed 
continually  to  form  fresh  relations  to  be  continually  swept  away 
by  death? 

We  are  certain  of  this,  at  any  rate — that  the  personal 
relations  of  one  life  must  have  much  to  do  in  determining  the 
personal  relations  of  the  next.  The  relations  which  men  form 
with  one  another  depend  ultimately  on  two  things — on  their 
characters,  and  on  the  circumstances  into  which  they  are  born. 
Now  a  man's  character  at  rebirth  would  be  clearly  influenced 
by  the  personal  relations  he  had  previously  formed.  With 
regard  to  the  causes  that  would  determine  rebirth  we  could 
only  know  that  they  would  proceed  from  the  nature  of  the 
Absolute  in  so  far  as  it  was  manifested  in  that  individual  at 
that  time.  The  personal  relations  he  had  formed  immediately 
previously  would  certainly  be  a  part  of  the  way  in  which  the 
Absolute  was  manifesting  itself  just  then  in  that  individual. 
On  our  theory,  indeed,  they  would  be  by  far  the  most  important 
and  significant  part,  since  in  them  alone  would  the  true  meaning 
of  reality  become  more  or  less  explicit.  It  is  clear  then  that 
they  would  have  much  to  do  in  determining  the  circumstances 
of  rebirth. 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  53 

58.  "And  yet,"  it  may  be  replied,  "though  they  might  be 
determined  by  them,  they  would  be  different  from  them.  The 
new  relations  would  not  be  the  old  ones,  and  thus  it  would  still 
be  true  that  the  continuity  was  broken  at  each  death."  Of 
course,  without  memory  the  relations  could  not  be  known  to  be 
the  same.  But  they  might,  nevertheless,  be  the  same.  At  all 
events,  the  more  intimate  of  our  relations  have  a  depth  of 
significance  which  is  often  absurdly  disproportionate  to  those 
causes  of  which  we  are  conscious.  These  relations,  ultimate 
facts  as  they  doubtless  are  sub  specie  aetemitatis,  must,  as 
arising  in  time,  have  antecedents.  Is  it  rash  to  suggest  that 
the  most  probable  antecedent  to  love  is  love,  and  that,  if  our 
choices  appear  unreasoned,  it  is  only  because  the  memories 
which  would  justify  them  have  condensed  into  an  instinct  which 
despises  justification?  Analogous  cases  may  be  found  in  the 
power  to  diagnose  a  disease,  or  to  pronounce  on  the  authen- 
ticity of  a  picture.  These  powers  are  often  gained  by  long 
practice,  and  yet  their  possessors  are  often  unable  to  give  any 
reasons  for  perfectly  correct  decisions,  because — in  this  case 
without  the  break  of  death — the  memory  of  past  experience 
has  ceased  to  be  memory,  and  has  become  an  instinct. 

Whether  this  be  so  or  not,  we  may  at  any  rate  expect 
that  a  relation,  once  established,  would  not  only  determine 
the  com'se  of  future  lives,  but  would  be  reproduced  in  them. 
For  we  have  seen  that  the  only  eternal  reality  is  related 
persons.  And  if  a  personal  relation  exists  in  time,  it  would 
seem  difficult  to  account  for  it  except  by  supposing  that  that 
very  relation  between  those  very  persons  was  ultimate  and 
eternal — though  of  course  in  far  greater  perfection  than  is 
possible  in  its  temporal  manifestation  i.  And  if  its  significance 
is  ultimate  and  eternal,  its  appearance  in  time  must  be  per- 
sistent, or  at  least  recurrent.  For  how  could  the  individual 
develop  in  time,  if  an  ultimate  element  of  his  nature  was 
destined  not  to  recur  in  time?  The  length  of  the  intervals 
which  may  elapse  between  two  recurrences  does  not,  of  course, 

^  This  might  require  some  qualification  about  every  form  of  personal  relation 
except  that  form  which  we  found  reason  to  consider  absolutely  adequate.  Cp, 
chap.  IX. 


54  HTJMAN   IMMORTALITY 

admit  of  prediction.  But  we  know  that  nothing  can  be  lost. 
And  we  know  that  personal  relations  cannot  be  transcended, 
because  there  is  nothing  higher.  They  must  therefore  be 
preserved  as  themselves,  and  preservation,  sub  specie  temforis, 
means  persistence  and  recurrence. 

59.  Thus  everything  is  not  lost  with  the  loss  of  memory. 
We  may  go  further.  Can  anything  be  eventually  lost?  If 
the  only  reality  is  an  eternal  system  of  personal  relations, 
then  any  event  can  only  be  an  inadequate  way  of  expressing 
part  of  that  system.  And  so,  in  such  a  system  of  personal 
relations,  all  the  meaning  and  all  the  value  of  every  event 
would  exist — synthesised,  transcended,  but  not  lost. 

Something  closely  analogous  to  this  does  unquestionably 
exist  within  the  limits  of  a  single  life,  and  can  be  perceived 
by  direct  observation.  When  a  personal  relation  has  existed 
for  many  years,  many  of  the  events  which  formed  its  temporal 
content,  and  had  importance  and  signiJ&cance  at  the  time,  are 
completely  forgotten.  But  we  do  not  regard  them  as  lost,  for 
we  recognize  that  each  of  them  has  done  its  part  in  moulding 
the  relationship  which  exists  at  present.  And  so  they  are 
preserved — preserved  indeed  far  more  perfectly  than  they  could 
be  in  memory.  For,  in  memory,  each  of  them  would  be  a  mere 
potentiality,  except  in  the  moment  when  it  was  actually  thought 
of,  while,  as  factors  of  disposition,  they  are  all  permanently  real. 

60.  I  am  not  denying — it  would  certainly  be  useless  to 
deny — ^that,  to  a  man  who  is  living  a  particular  life  in  time, 
the  prospect  that  he  will  cease  to  remember  that  life — even 
by  transcending  memory — will  always  afpear  a  loss  and  a 
breach  of  continuity.  Arguments  may  convince  him  that  this 
is  a  delusion,  but  they  will  not  remove  the  feeHng.  Nor  is 
it  to  be  expected  that  this  should  be  otherwise.  A  Synthesis 
can  only  be  seen  to  preserve  the  true  value  of  its  terms  in  so 
far  as  we  have  attained  to  the  standpoint  of  the  Synthesis. 
And  so  a  process  towards  perfection  can  never  be  perfectly 
painless.  For  the  surrender  of  imperfection  could  only  be 
quite  painless  to  the  perfect  individual,  and  till  the  process 
is  completed  he  is  not  perfect. 


HUMAN   IMMORTALITY  55 

Note  to  Second  Edition 

I  do  not  now  hold  the  views  as  to  the  relation  of  the  self 
and  the  objects  of  which  it  is  conscious,  which  are  explained  in 
Sections  24 — 30.  But  I  have  not  altered  the  text  because, 
though  I  no  longer  hold  them  to  be  correct,  I  still  hold  them 
to  be  Hegelian,  and  therefore  relevant  to  the  purpose  of  the 
book.  I  may  add  that  I  still  hold,  though  for  somewhat 
different  reasons,  which  I  hope  some  day  to  publish,  that 
human  selves  are  among  the  fundamental  differentiations  of 
the  universe,  and  that  they  are  therefore,  svh  specie  temporis, 
immortal. 


CHAPTER   III 

THE  PERSONALITY   OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

61.  The  question  whether  there  is  a  God  has  attracted 
much  attention,  for  the  ordinary  definition  of  God  makes  the 
question  both  important  and  doubtful.  But,  according  to 
Hegel's  use  of  the  word  God,  it  ceases  to  be  either  doubtful  or 
important.  For  he  defines  God  as  the  Absolute  Keality,  what- 
ever that  reality  may  turn  out  to  be.  To  question  the  existence 
of  such  a  God  as  this  is  impossible.  For  to  deny  it  would  mean 
the  denial  that  there  was  any  reality  at  all.  This  would  be 
contradictory,  for  what,  in  that  case,  would  happen  to  the  denial 
itself  ?  But  the  same  reasons  which  make  the  existence  of  such 
a  God  quite  certain  make  it  also  quite  trivial.  For  it  tells  us 
nothing  except  that  there  is  some  reality  somewhere.  We 
must  know  of  what  nature  that  reality  is,  if  our  conviction  of 
its  existence  is  to  have  any  interest,  either  for  theory  or 
practice. 

Thus  Hegel's  treatment  of  God's  existence  and  nature  will 
proceed  differently  from  that  which  is  generally  employed.  The 
common  plan  is  to  use  the  word  to  connote  certain  definite 
attributes,  and  then  to  enquire  if  a  being  answering  to  this 
description  really  exists.  But  Hegel  defines  God  to  mean  what- 
ever really  exists,  and  then  the  important  question  is  to  deter- 
mine the  nature  of  this  reahty.  Instead  of  "Is  there  a  God?" 
we  must  ask  "  What  is  God's  nature  ? " 

In  ordinary  usage,  and  in  the  usage  also  of  many  philo- 
sophers, the  word  God  connotes,  among  other  attributes, 
personality.    And  on  the  personality  of  God  depend  most  of 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE      57 

the  other  attributes  commonly  ascribed  to  him.  An  impersonal 
being  could  be  omnipotent,  indeed,  and  could  "work  for 
righteousness."  It  could  also  be  rational,  in  the  sense  that  its 
nature  was  such  as  to  present  an  harmonious  and  coherent  whole 
to  the  reason  of  the  observer.  But  an  impersonal  being  could 
not  be  wise  or  good.  It  could  not  love  men.  Nor  could  the 
emotions  of  acquiescence  and  admiration  with  which  men  might 
regard  it  be  sufficiently  like  the  emotions  of  one  man  towards 
another  to  merit  the  name  of  love.  Certainly  they  would  be 
very  different  emotions  from  those  with  which  the  believers  in 
a  personal  God  regard  him. 

P'or  the  ordinary  conception  of  God,  then,  the  attribute  of 
personality  seems  of  paramount  importance.  And  so,  when  we 
are  considering  Hegel's  system,  the  question,  "Does  God  exist?  " 
may  be  fairly  turned  into  the  question  "Is  God  a  person?" 
Unquestionably  Hegel  regards  God  as  infinite,  as  a  unity,  as 
spirit,  as  making  for  reason  and  righteousness.  If  we  add 
personality  to  these  qualities  we  have  the  ordinary  conception 
of  God,  On  the  other  hand,  if  we  deny  the  personality,  we  get 
the  conception  of  a  being  to  whom,  in  ordinary  language,  the 
name  of  God  would  not  be  applied. 

But  what  exactly  is  meant  by  personality?  I  may  know, 
though  it  is  difficult  to  define,  what  I  mean  when  I  say  that 
I  am  a  person.  But  it  is  clear  that  the  nature  of  an  infinite 
and  perfect  being  must  be  very  different  from  mine.  And 
within  what  limits  must  this  difference  be  confined,  if  that 
infinite  and  perfect  being  is  to  be  called  a  person? 

The  characteristic  which  determines  personality  seems,  on 
the  whole,  to  be  generally  placed  in  the  "I" — the  synthetic 
unity  of  apperception.  When  a  being  distinguishes  itself  from 
its  content — when,  in  other  words,  it  finds  in  that  content  an 
element  which  is  never  absent,  though  never  present  in  isolation, 
which  is  always  the  same,  and  whose  presence  determines  the 
content  to  be  the  content  of  that  particular  being,  then  w^e  call 
that  being  personal.  I  know  that  I  can  say  "I  am."  I  know 
that  a  College  cannot  say  "I  am."  If  we  conceive  that  it  is 
consistent  with  God's  nature  to  say  "I  am,"  we  shall  hold  that 
God  is  a  person,  but  not  otherwise. 


58      THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

62.  Is  Hegel's  God  a  person?  The  word  God  is  so  closely 
connected  in  ordinary  usage  with  personahty,  that  the  question 
put  in  this  way,  has  an  unjustifiable  suggestion  in  its  terms  of 
an  affirmative  answer.  And  as  Hegel  has  another  name  for 
ultimate  reality — the  Absolute — it  will  be  less  confusing  if  we 
use  it  in  future,  remembering  that  the  Absolute  and  God  are 
for  Hegel  identical,  and  that  if,  for  Hegel,  a  personal  God  exists 
at.  all,  he  must  be  the  Absolute.  It  is,  I  think,  best  to  use 
neuter  pronouns  in  referring,  during  this  discussion,  to  the 
Absolute,  or  to  Hegel's  God.  The  use  of  masculine  pronouns 
would  prejudge  the  question  of  the  personality  of  the  Absolute 
in  the  affirmative,  while  the  more  general  neuter  pronouns  do 
not  prejudge  it  so  much  in  the  negative.  Moreover  the  view 
which  I  shall  endeavour  to  defend  is  that  the  Absolute,  as 
demonstrated  by  Hegel,  must  not  be  considered  as  personal, 
and  is  more  appropriately  called  "it"  than  "he." 

63.  Hegel  regards  the  Absolute  as  a  unity.  He  regards  it, 
not  as  an  external  and  mechanical  unity,  not  even  as  an  organic 
unity,  but  as  the  deepest  unity  possible — one  in  which  the 
parts  have  no  meaning  but  their  unity,  while  that  unity,  again, 
has  no  meaning  but  its  differentiations.  And  this  unity  is 
unquestionably,  according  to  Hegel,  spirit.  We  may  go  further. 
There  is  no  reason  to  think  that  Hegel  held  it  possible  for 
spirit  to  exist,  except  in  the  form  of  persons,  while  there  is 
every  reason  to  think  that  he  regarded  persons  as  the  highest 
form  of  spirit^. 

It  does  not  follow  from  this,  however,  that  the  Absolute  is 
a  person.  It  might  be  said  of  a  College,  with  as  much  truth 
as  it  has  been  said  of  the  Absolute,  that  it  is  a  unity,  that  it  is 
a  unity  of  spirit,  and  that  none  of  that  spirit  exists  except  as 
personal.  Yet  the  College  is  not  a  person.  It  is  a  unity  of 
persons,  but  it  is  not  a  person  itself.  And,  in  the  same  way,  it 
is  possible  that  the  Absolute  may  be  a  unity  of  persons,  without 
being  a  person.  Of  course  the  Absolute  is  a  far  more  perfect 
unity  than  the  College.  The  bearing  of  this  on  the  question  of 
its  personality  will  be  discussed  later  on^. 

1  Cp.  chap,  n.  2  Sections  79—83. 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE      59 

I  believe  that  Hegel  did  not  himself  regard  the  Absolute  as 
personal.  It  seems  clear  from  the  Philosophy  of  Religion  that 
the  truth  of  God's  nature,  according  to  Hegel,  is  to  be  found  in 
the  Kingdom  of  the  Holy  G-host  (which  must  be  distinguished 
from  the  idea  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  the  Kingdom  of  the  Father). 
And  the  Kingdom  of  the  Holy  Ghost  appears  to  be  not  a  person 
but  a  community.  But  Hegel's  own  opinion  on  this  subject 
will  be  discussed  more  conveniently  in  a  later  chapter  ^.  In  this 
chapter  I  wish  to  consider,  not  Hegel's  own  opinions  on  the 
personality  of  the  Absolute,  but  the  conclusions  on  the  subject 
which  ought  logically  to  be  deduced  from  his  conception  of  the 
Absolute  as  determined  in  the  Logic. 

64.  What  hght  does  the  dialectic  itself  throw  on  our 
problem?  We  saw  in  the  last  chapter  that,  we  must  conceive 
the  Absolute  as  differentiated  into  individuals,  and  that  we 
must  conceive  the  unity  as  being  in  each  of  these  individuals. 
We  saw,  further,  that  we  could  only  conceive  this  as  happening 
if  the  unity  was /or  each  of  its  individuals.  And  we  saw  that 
the  only  way  in  which  we  could  imagine  a  unity  to  be  for  each 
of  its  individuals  was  for  each  of  those  individuals  to  be 
conscious  of  the  unity  ^. 

The  unity  is  for  each  of  the  individuals.  Are  we  also 
entitled  to  say  that  each  of  the  individuals  is  for  the  unity? 
Such  a  relation,  indeed,  would  not  justify  us  in  concluding  that 
the  Absolute  was  a  person,  any  more  than  the  relation  already 
established  justified  us,  by  itself,  in  concluding  that  the 
individuals  in  the  Absolute  were  persons.  We  do  not  know, 
and  cannot  imagine,  any  way  in  which  A  can  be  for  B,  except 
by  B's  consciousness  of  A.  But  other  ways  may  exist,  and  so, 
in  proving  that  A  must  be  for  B,  we  do  not  actually  prove  that 
B  must  be  conscious.  Such  a  result,  however,  would  render 
the  consciousness  of  B  probable,  and  might  be  the  basis  of  a 
more  definite  proof. 

When  we  consider  how  strictly  reciprocal  is  the  dependence 

1  Sections  216—218. 

2  Sections  64 — 67  are  taken,  with  some  alterations  and  transpositions,  from 
the  paper  on  Hegel's  Treatment  of  the  Categories  of  the  Idea,  already  quoted. 
(Mind,  1900,  p.  145.) 


60      THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

which  exists  between  the  unity  and  the  individuals,  it  might 
seem  probable  that  the  individuals  are  for  the  unity.  I  believe, 
however,  that  this  view  is  mistaken,  and  that,  while  the  unity 
is  for  the  individuals,  the  individuals  are  not  for  the  unity.  In 
more  concrete  language,  the  Logic  does  not  suggest  to  us  to 
consider  the  Absolute  as  a  whole  to  be  conscious,  and  therefore 
a  person.  I  shall  endeavour  to  show  further  on  that  the  Logic 
cannot  by  itself  forbid  us  to  think  of  the  Absolute  as  a 
person. 

In  the  first  place,  there  is  no  necessity  of  thought  which 
compels  us  to  regard  the  individuals  as  existing  for  the  unity. 
We  were  driven  to  regard  the  unity  as  existing  for  the  in- 
dividuals, because  we  found  it  necessary  that  the  unity  should 
exist  in  each  individual.  Now  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  inclusion 
it  was  clearly  impossible  for  the  unity  to  be  in  each  of  the 
individuals  which  are  parts  of  it,  and  the  only  alternative  was 
that  it  should  be  in  each  of  them  in  the  sense  of  being  for  each 
of  them. 

It  is  as  necessary,  no  doubt,  to  regard  the  individuals  as  being 
in  the  unity,  as  to  regard  the  unity  as  being  in  each  of  the 
individuals.  But  then  there  is  no  diflSculty  in  regarding  the 
individuals  as  being  in  the  unity  in  the  ordinary  sense  of 
inclusion.  So  far  from  this  being  difficult,  it  is  part  of  the 
definition  of  a  unity  of  individuals  that  it  includes  them.  And 
therefore  we  have  no  right  to  say  that  the  individuals  are  for 
the  unity.  They  are  in  it — that  is  proved.  But  the  further 
step — that  they  can  only  be  in  it  by  being  for  it — is  wanting. 

65.  And  I  think  we  may  go  further  than  this,  and  say  that 
it  is  impossible  that  the  individuals  should  be  for  the  unity,  in 
the  sense  in  which  we  held  it  to  be  necessary  that  the  unity 
should  be  for  the  individuals.  For  the  whole  significance  of 
one  being  for  the  other  was  that  there  was  some  difference 
between  them.  If  there  was  no  difference,  the  one  would  he 
the  other,  and  the  whole  conception,  as  we  have  got  it  here,  of 
one  being  for  the  other  would  collapse.  All  the  meaning  we 
gave  to  the  expression  that  A  was  for  B  was  that  the  content  of 
the  one  was  also  the  content  of  the  other.  If  A  and  B  are 
different,  this  means  something.    But  if  A  and  B  are  identical 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE      61 

then  it  would  only  mean  that  a  thing's  content  was  its  content — 
which  is  not  a  new  conception,  but  a  useless  tautology. 

Let  us  apply  this.  The  unity  and  the  individuals  are 
identical — the  unity  has  no  nature  except  to  be  the  individuals, 
and  the  individuals  have  no  nature  except  to  be  the  unity. 
This  Hegel  demonstrates  in  the  category  of  Teleology.  But 
the  unity  is  something  diiJerent  from  each  of  the  individuals, 
and,  therefore,  if  the  content  of  the  unity  is  found  in  each  of 
the  individuals,  there  is  a  meaning  in  saying  that  it  is  for  each 
of  the  individuals.  On  the  other  hand,  the  unity  is  not 
different  from  all  the  individuals  together.  (It  is,  of  course, 
not  equivalent  to  a  mere  sum  or  aggregate  of  the  individuals, 
because  it  is  their  real  unity.  But  then  they  exist  as  a  real 
unity,  and  not  as  a  mere  sum  or  aggregate,  so  that  the  unity 
is  identical  with  the  individuals  as  they  really  are.)  If  there- 
fore the  content  of  the  unity  is  identical  with  that  of  the 
individuals,  this  merely  means  that  the  content  is  identical 
with  itself — not  that  it  is  identical  with  the  contents  of  any- 
thing else.  And  so  the  conception  of  the  individuals  being  for 
the  unity  becomes  unmeaning. 

66.  The  correctness  of  such  a  view  may  be  challenged  on 
the  ground  of  its  atomism.  If  each  of  the  many  individuals 
has  this  quality  which  is  denied  to  the  single  unity,  we  have, 
it  may  be  said,  reduced  the  unity  to  a  comparative  unreaUty. 
All  the  reahty  is  transferred  to  the  separate  individuals,  who 
are  each  centres  for  which  all  reality  exists,  and  the  unity  falls 
back  into  the  position  of  a  mere  aggregate,  or,  at  the  most,  of 
a  mechanically  determined  whole. 

If  this  were  the  case,  we  should  certainly  have  gone  wrong. 
Hegel  has  shown  in  the  categories  of  Teleology  and  Life  that 
the  unity  must  be  as  real  as  the  individuals.  And,  so  far  from 
dropping  this  in  the  final  categories  of  the  Logic,  we  saw  in  the 
last  chapter  that  the  reason  why  we  pressed  on  to  the  category 
of  Cognition  was  that  in  no  other  way  could  the  full  reality  of 
the  unity  be  made  compatible  with  the  full  reahty  of  the 
individuals. 

If,  therefore,  the  denial  that  the  individuals  existed  for  the 
unity,  subordinated  the  unity  to  the  individuals,  and  involved 


62      THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

an  atomistic  view,  the  position  would  have  to  be  changed 
somehow.  But  I  believe  that  it  does  nothing  of  the  sort,  and 
that,  on  the  contrary,  it  is  the  objection  to  it  which  implies 
an  atomistic  theory,  and  is  therefore  invalid. 

A  system  of  individuals  of  which  each  is  conscious  of  the 
other  (to  go  back  to  a  concrete  example  of  the  notion  before 
us)  is  of  course  differentiated.  Each  of  the  conscious  beings 
is  an  individual,  and  stands  out,  by  that,  separate  from  the 
others.  But  they  are  just  as  much  united  as  they  are  separated. 
For  A  can  only  be  conscious  of  B  in  so  far  as  they  are  united, 
and  it  is  only,  in  such  a  system,  by  being  conscious  of  B  that 
A  is  an  individual,  or,  indeed,  exists  at  all.  Common  sense, 
however,  clings  by  preference  to  the  categories  of  Essence,  and 
is  consequently  atomistic.  To  common  sense,  therefore,  such 
a  system  is  more  thoroughly  differentiated  than  it  is  united. 
But  the  dialectic  has  proved  this  to  be  a  mistake.  It  has 
shown  that  in  such  a  system  the  unity  is  as  real  as  the 
differentiation,  and  it  is  only  to  an  objector  who  ignores  this 
that  a  system  bound  together  by  the  mutual  knowledge  of 
its  parts  can  be  accused  of  atomism. 

To  think  that  the  unity  of  the  system  would  be  greater  if 
the  individuals  were  for  that  unity  is  a  mistake.  It  is  true 
that  each  individual  is  also,  in  one  sense  of  the  word,  a  unity, 
and  that  the  unity  of  the  system  is  for  each  individual.  But 
the  sense  in  which  an  individual,  which  gets  all  difEerentiation 
from  without,  is  a  unity,  is  entirely  different  from  the  unity 
of  the  system.  This  has  nothing  outside  to  which  it  can  be 
related,  and  it  gets  all  its  differentiations  from  within — from 
the  individuals  composing  it.  Such  a  difference  in  the  nature 
of  the  two  unities  prevents  us  from  arguing  that  they  ought 
to  unify  their  differentiations  in  the  same  way. 

Indeed,  if  the  system  unified  its  internal  differentiations 
in  the  same  way  that  the  individual  unifies  its  external 
differentiations — by  having  them  for  itself — it  seems  difficult 
to  deny  that  it  would  be  an  individual  too.  And  if  it  was  an 
individual,  it  would  stand  side  by  side  with  the  other  in- 
dividuals, and  could  not  be  their  unity — which  is  just  what 
we  set  out  by  declaring  that  it  was.    And  this  supports  our 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE      63 

previous  conclusion — that  the  two  relations,  though  equally 
real,  are  not  similar,  and  that,  while  the  unity  is  for  each 
individual,  they  are  not  for  the  unity. 

67.  Since,  then,  the  individuals  cannot  be  for  the  unity, 
the  dialectic  gives  us  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  unity  either 
is  a  conscious  being,  or  possesses  any  qualities  analogous  to 
consciousness.  In  that  case  it  gives  us  no  reason  to  suppose 
that  the  Absolute,  as  a  whole,  is  personal.  But  the  dialectic 
does  not  give  us  by  this  any  reason  to  deny  personality  to 
the  Absolute.  To  suppose  that  it  did  would  be  to  confound 
unjustifiably  the  category  of  pure  thought,  which  Hegel  calls 
Cognition,  with  the  concrete  fact  after  which  it  is  named.  To 
avoid  such  confusion  altogether  is  very  difficult.  Hegel  himself 
did  not  always  succeed  in  doing  so — for  example  in  the  category 
of  Chemism,  and  in  the  details  of  the  Subjective  Notion  and 
of  Life.  And  this  constitutes  the  chief  objection  to  his  practice 
of  naming  categories  after  the  concrete  subject-matter  which 
best  illustrates  them.  Such  a  plan  is  no  doubt  very  convenient 
for  an  author  whose  penetration  had  discovered  many  more 
stages  of  thought  than  could  be  described  by  existing  termi- 
nology. And  it  was  also  stimulating  to  the  learner,  assisting 
him  to  call  up  a  vivid  picture  of  the  category,  and  suggesting 
its  practical  application  and  importance.  But  these  advantages 
are  more  than  counterbalanced  by  the  dangers  of  such  a  nomen- 
clature. 

One  of  these  concerns  the  dialectic  itself.  Any  concrete 
state  contains  many  abstract  ideas  as  its  moments,  and  if 
we  call  one  of  the  abstract  ideas  by  the  name  of  the  concrete 
state,  we  shall  run  considerable  risk  of  mixing  it  up  with  the 
others,  and  of  supposing  that  we  have  deduced  by  pure  thought 
more  than  we  really  have  deduced. 

And  there  is  another  danger,  arising  from  a  question  which 
is  logically  prior  to  the  last  difficulty.  Is  the  abstract  idea, 
which  is  named  after  the  concrete  state,  really  an  essential 
element  of  that  state  at  all?  This  is  a  question  which  cannot 
be  settled  by  the  dialectic  process,  which  only  deals  with  such 
abstract  ideas  as  can  be  reached  by  pure  thought,  and  cannot 
discuss  the  question  whether  a  particular  pure  thought  can  be 


64      THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

found  by  analysis  in  a  particular  empirical  fact.  By  giving 
such  a  name  to  the  category,  the  dialectic  assumes  that  the 
answer  to  the  question  is  in  the  affirmative,  but  does  not  prove 
it.  Should  the  assumption  be  mistaken,  the  only  injury  done 
to  the  dialectic  itself  will  be  that  the  category  has  acquired  an 
inappropriate  name,  which  may  be  misleading.  But  if,  in  the 
application  of  the  dialectic,  we  assume  that  such  a  category  is 
always  true  of  the  part  of  experience  after  which  it  is  named, 
we  may  go  hopelessly  wrong. 

In  the  case  before  us,  it  is  clear,  as  I  have  endeavoured  to 
show  above,  that,  according  to  HegeVs  category  of  Cognition, 
nothing  can  cognize  unless  it  has  something  outside  itself  to 
be  cognized,  and  that  consequently  it  is  impossible  that  the 
unity,  which  has  nothing  outside  itself,  should  cognize  any- 
thing. But  it  by  no  means  follows  from  this  that  we  can 
deny  cognition  or  consciousness  to  that  unity.  For  such  a 
step  would  imply  that  Hegel's  category  of  Cognition  was  the 
essential  characteristic  of  what  is  ordinarily  called  thought, 
and,  whether  this  is  true  or  false,  it  is  certainly  not  proved. 
All  the  thought,  indeed,  of  which  we  are  immediately  conscious 
is  of  this  sort,  for  we  know  no  thought  directly  but  our  own, 
and  we  are  finite  beings.  But  supposing  that  Lotze  was  right 
in  asserting  that  an  all-embracing  reality  could  be  conscious  of 
itself,  then  we  should  have  to  admit  that  it  was  not  an  essential 
characteristic  of  thought  to  be  for  the  thinker  in  the  way  in 
which  the  unity  is  for  the  individual — and  in  which  the 
individual  is  not  for  the  unity — in  Hegel's  category.  Of  course 
this  would  not  involve  any  inaccuracy  in  the  dialectic.  The 
dialectic  asserts  that  the  individuals  are  not  for  the  unity  in  a 
specified  sense.  There  is  nothing  incompatible  with  this  in  the 
assertion  that  the  unity  is  nevertheless  conscious. 

68.  Lotze' s  views  on  this  point  are  of  peculiar  interest  to 
us.  He  did  not,  indeed,  accept  Hegel's  view  of  the  Absolute 
^vithout  important  modifications.  But  he  agreed  with  him  in 
identifying  God  with  the  Absolute — in  making  God  not  only 
the  supreme  but  the  sole  reality.  And  this  God  he  asserted  to 
be  personal,  and  defended  his  conclusion  by  arguments  some 
of  which,  if  valid,  would  equally  apply  to  the  Absolute  as 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE      65 

conceived  by  Hegel.  Under  these  circumstances  it  may  be 
profitable  to  consider  these  arguments  in  some  detail.  They 
will  be  found  in  the  Microcosmus,  Book  ix.  chap.  iv.  The 
Outlines  of  the  Philosophy  of  Religion  prove  that  the  sub- 
sequent development  of  his  philosophy  did  not  change  his 
views  on  this  subject. 

In  the  first  place,  Lotze  holds  it  to  be  "an  immediate 
certainty  that  what  is  greatest,  most  beautiful,  most  worthy, 
is  not  a  mere  thought,  but  must  be  a  reality,  because  it  would 
be  intolerable  to  believe  of  our  ideal  that  it  is  an  idea  produced 
by  the  action  of  thought,  but  having  no  existence,  no  power, 
and  no  validity  in  the  world  of  reality^."  This  argument  we 
shall  consider  later  2.  His  other  two  arguments  he  sums  up  as 
follows — "Self-hood,  the  essence  of  all  personality,  does  not 
depend  upon  any  opposition  that  either  has  happened  or  is 
happening  of  the  Ego  to  a  Non-Ego,  but  it  consists  in  an 
immediate  self- existence  which  constitutes  the  basis  of  the 
possibility  of  that  contrast  whenever  it  appears.  Self-con- 
sciousness is  the  elucidation  of  this  self-existence  which  is 
brought  about  by  means  of  knowledge,  and  even  this  is  by 
no  means  necessarily  bound  up  with  the  distinction  of  the  Ego 
from  a  Non-Ego  which  is  substantially  opposed  to  it. 

"In  the  nature  of  the  finite  mind  as  such  is  to  be  found 
the  reason  why  the  development  of  its  personal  consciousness 
can  take  place  only  through  the  influences  of  the  cosmic  whole 
which  the  finite  being  itself  is  not,  that  is,  through  stimulation 
coming  from  the  Non-Ego,  not  because  it  needs  the  contrast 
with  something  alien  in  order  to  have  self-existence,  but 
because  in  this  respect,  as  in  every  other,  it  does  not  contain 
in  itself  the  conditions  of  its  existence.  We  do  not  find  this 
limitation  in  the  being  of  the  Infinite;  hence  for  it  alone  is 
there  possible  a  seK-existence,  which  needs  neither  to  be 
initiated  nor  to  be  continuously  developed  by  something  not 
itself,  but  which  maintains  itself  within  itself  with  spontaneous 
action  that  is  eternal  and  had  no  beginning. 

"Perfect  Personality  is  in  God  only;  to  all  finite  minds 

^  op.  cit.  Bk  IX.  chap,  iv  (iii.  560,  trans,  ii.  670). 
2  Sections  73—78. 

MCT.  6 


66      THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

there  is  allotted  but  a  pale  copy  thereof;  the  finiteness  of  the 
finite  is  not  a  producing  condition  of  this  Personality,  but  a 
limit  and  a  hindrance  of  its  development^." 

69.  Taking  the  first  of  these  contentions  we  must  remark 
that  the  term  Non-Ego  is  rather  ambiguous,  when  the  relation 
of  an  Ego  to  a  Non-Ego  is  spoken  of.  It  may  mean  something 
that  is  not  an  Ego  at  all,  or  it  may  only  mean  something  that 
is  not  the  Ego  which  forms  the  other  term  of  the  relation.  In 
this  sense  two  Egos  might  each  be  the  other's  Non-Ego.  It  is 
in  this  wider  sense  that  we  must  take  it  if  we  are  to  consider 
any  relation  which  on  Hegelian  principles  can  be  regarded  as 
essential  to  the  Ego.  For  Hegel  certainly  thinks  that  nothing 
is  real  but  spirit,  and  we  saw  reason  in  the  last  chapter  to 
believe  that  all  spirit  must  be  taken  as  selves.  It  follows  that 
no  Ego  could  come  into  relation  with  anything  but  another 
Ego,  which  would,  as  far  as  that  relation  went,  be  the  Non-Ego 
of  the  first. 

We  may,  no  doubt,  unreservedly  accept  Lotze's  statement 
that  "no  being  in  the  nature  of  which  self-existence  was  not 
given  as  primary  and  underived  could  be  endowed  with  self- 
hood by  any  mechanism  of  favouring  circumstances  however 
wonderful^."  This  completely  harmonises  with  the  conclusion 
reached  in  the  last  chapter,  that  it  was  impracticable  to  regard 
a  self  as  anything  but  a  fundamental  differentiation  of  the 
Absolute.  But  the  question  still  remains  whether  it  is  not  an 
essential  part  of  the  eternal,  primary  and  underived  nature  of 
each  self  that  it  should  be  related  to  some  reality  outside  it. 

Lotze  further  remarks  that  the  "Ego  and  Non-Ego  cannot 
be  two  notions  of  which  each  owes  its  whole  content  only  to  its 
contrast  with  the  other ;  if  this  were  so  they  would  both  remain 
without  content.... Hence  every  being  which  is  destined  to  take 
the  part  of  the  Ego  when  the  contrast  has  arisen  must  have 
the  ground  of  its  determination  in  that  nature  which  it  had 
previoiLS  to  the  contrast^"  and,  therefore,  independent  of  the 
contrast. 

^  op.  cit.  Bk  IX.  chap,  tv  (iii.  580,  trans,  ii.  688). 
*  op.  cit.  Bk  IX.  chap,  iv  (iii.  572,  trans,  ii.  680). 
'  op.  cit.  Bk  IX.  chap,  iv  (iii.  570,  trans,  ii.  678). 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE      67 

Now  it  is  quite  true  that  if  we  tried  to  explain  the  Ego 
eoccluswely  from  the  reality  outside  to  which  it  is  in  relation,  we 
should  have  fallen  into  a  vicious  circle,  since  that  reality  could 
only  be  explained  with  reference  to  the  Ego.  But  it  by  no 
means  follows  from  the  impossibility  of  explaining  the  isolated 
Ego  by  the  isolated  Non-Ego,  that  the  Ego  can  be  explained 
without  its  Non-Ego,  or  is  conceivable  without  it.  There  is  a 
third  alternative — that  the  isolated  Ego  cannot  be  explained 
at  all,  being  an  unreal  abstraction  which  shows  its  unreality  by 
its  inexplicability,  and  that  Ego  and  Non-Ego  can  only  be 
explained  when  they  are  taken  together  as  mutually  explaining 
each  other.  The  idea  of  the  Ego  is  certainly  more  than  the 
mere  fact  that  it  is  related  to  the  Non-Ego,  but  this  does  not 
prevent  the  relation  to  the  Non-Ego  being  essential  to  the 
nature  of  the  Ego.  If,  to  take  a  parallel  case,  we  tried  to 
explain  the  idea  of  a  parent  merely  in  terms  of  the  idea  of  a 
child,  we  should  have  fallen  into  a  vicious  circle,  since  we 
should  find  that  the  idea  of  a  child  could  not  be  explained 
except  in  relation  to  the  idea  of  a  parent.  But  it  would  not 
be  correct  to  argue  from  this  that  a  parent  could  exist,  or  be 
conceived,  without  a  child.  They  are  certainly  not  "  two 
notions  of  which  one  owes  its  whole  content  to  its  contrast 
with  the  other,"  but  that  does  not  prevent  each  of  them  from 
being  meaningless  without  the  other. 

70.  The  Ego,  therefore,  would  not  necessarily  become 
inexplicable,  even  if  it  could  not  be  conceived  except  in 
relation  to  the  Non-Ego.  Can  it  be  conceived  otherwise? 
Lotze  answers  this  question  in  the  affirmative,  so  far  as  the 
Infinite  Being  is  concerned.  It,  he  says,  "does  not  need — as 
we  sometimes,  with  a  strange  perversion  of  the  right  point  of 
view,  think — that  its  life  shall  be  called  forth  by  external 
stimuli,  but  from  the  beginning  its  concept  is  without  the 
deficiency  which  seems  to  make  such  stimuli  necessary  for  the 
finite  being,  and  its  active  efficacy  thinkable  ^."  Undoubtedly  the 
Infinite  Being  can  exist  without  stimulation  from  the  outside. 
For  as  there  is  no  outside,  the  only  other  alternative  would  be 

^  op.  cit  Bk  IX.  chap,  iv  (iii.  575,  trans,  ii.  683). 

5—2 


68      THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

that  the  Absolute — that  is,  all  reality — should  be  non-existent. 
But  does  it  exist  as  a  person  ? 

Lotze  says  that  "every  feeling  of  pleasure  or  dislike,  every 
kind  of  self-enjoyment  (Selbstgenuss)  does  in  our  view  contain 
the  primary  basis  of  personality,  that  immediate  self-existence 
which  all  later  developments  of  self-consciousness  may  indeed 
make  plainer  to  thought  by  contrasts  and  comparisons,  thus 
also  intensifying  its  value,  but  which  is  not  in  the  first  place 
produced  by  them^."  And  we  may  so  far  agree  with  this,  as  to 
admit  that  personality  consists  in  saying  "I,"  not  in  saying 
"Smith,"  "table,"  or  any  other  names  which  may  be  applied  to 
the  Non-Ego.  But  the  question  remains  whether  it  is  possible 
for  the  Absolute  to  say  "I,"  since  it  can  name  no  Smith,  and 
no  table,  distinct  from  itself.  The  consciousness  of  the  Non- 
Ego  is  not  personality.  But  is  it  not  an  essential  condition  of 
personality? 

Each  of  us  is  a  finite  person.  And  each  of  us  finds  that, 
for  him,  the  consciousness  of  the  Non-Ego  is  an  essential 
condition  of  his  personality.  Each  of  us  infers  that  he  is 
surrounded  by  various  other  finite  persons.  And  of  each  of 
them  we  have  reason  to  infer  that  a  consciousness  of  some 
Non-Ego  is  essential  to  his  personality.  Such  a  consciousness 
the  Absolute  cannot  possess.  For  there  is  nothing  outside  it, 
from  which  it  can  distinguish  itself. 

It  is  true  that  the  Absolute  is  by  no  means  a  blank  unity. 
It  is  differentiated,  and  the  differentiations  are  as  essential  as 
the  unity.  If  it  were  merely  its  own  aspect  of  unity,  then  it 
would  have  something  to  distinguish  itself  from— namely 
its  differentiations.  But  then  the  Absolute  is  not  merely  the 
aspect  of  unity.  If  it  were,  it  would  not  be  all  reality  in  its 
true  and  ultimate  form.  It  would  only  be  one  aspect  of  that 
reality — an  abstraction,  and,  therefore,  taken  by  itself,  false. 
This  is  not  what  Hegel  and  Lotze  mean  by  the  Absolute.  The 
Absolute  is  the  full  reality — the  differentiated  unity,  or  the 
unified  differentiations.  And  there  is  nothing  which  is  in  any 
way  outside  this,  or  which  can  in  any  way  be  distinguished  from 
this. 

^  op.  cit.  Bk  IX.  chap,  iv  (iii.  571,  trans,  ii.  679). 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE      69 

It  is  true,  again,  that  the  Absolute  is  something  very 
different  from  any  one  of  its  differentiations,  or  from  the  sum, 
or  from  the  mechanical  aggregate,  of  all  its  differentiations. 
But  this  ^^^ll  not  provide  the  Absolute  with  anything  different 
from  itself.  For  the  differentiations  do  not  exist  as  isolated, 
and  do  not  exist  as  a  sum,  or  as  a  mechanical  aggregate.  They 
only  exist  as  they  are  unified  in  the  Absolute.  And,  therefore, 
as  they  really  exist,  they  have  no  existence  distinguishable  from 
the  Absolute. 

71.  The  Absolute,  then,  has  not  a  characteristic  which  is 
admitted  to  be  essential  to  all  finite  personality,  which  is  all  the 
personality  of  which  we  have  any  experience.  Is  this  character- 
istic essential  to  personality,  or  only  to  finite  personality?  We 
know  of  no  personality  without  a  Non-Ego.  Nor  can  we 
imagine  what  such  a  personality  would  be  like.  For  we 
certainly  can  never  say  "I"  without  raising  the  idea  of  the 
Non-Ego,  and  so  we  can  never  form  any  idea  of  the  way  in 
which  the  Absolute  would  say  "I."  We  cannot,  indeed,  say 
with  complete  certainty  that  it  could  not  be  done.  It  is  ab- 
stractly possible  that  in  some  way  utterly  inexplicable  to  us 
the  Absolute  may  be  personal.     But  this  is  alP. 

But  although  all  such  arguments  from  bare  possibility  are 
merely  trivial  when  taken  by  themselves,  yet  they  may  have  a 
very  different  aspect  when  conjoined  with  some  positive  argu- 
ment. If  any  line  of  reasoning  leads  us  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  Absolute  7nust  somehow  be  personal,  then  the  possibility 
that  it  can  be  personal,  even  if  it  has  to  be  in  some  quite  un- 
imaginable way,  becomes  of  real  value. 

72.  Before  considering,  however,  what  positive  arguments 
there  may  be  for  the  personality  of  the  Absolute,  we  must  note 
that  they  will  all  have  the  disadvantage  that  the  personality 
which  they  support  is  of  a  kind  which  is  beyond  both  our  ex- 
perience and  our  imagination.  In  this  respect  a  criticism  which 
Lotze  makes  recoils  on  himself.  He  complains  that  those  who 
deny  the  personality  of  the  Absolute  separate  spirit  from  person- 

^  Note  to  Second  Edition.  I  have  modified  this  paragraph  by  the  omission 
of  some  sentences  which  now  appear  to  me  to  overrate  the  strength  of  these 
considerations. 


70     THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

ality  in  an  unjustifiable  manner,  since  they  are  never  separated 
in  our  experience^.  To  this  we  may  reply  that  one  theory,  at 
least,  which  denies  personality  to  the  Absolute,  does  not  do  this. 
For  it  admits  that  all  spirit  is  differentiated  into  persons,  but 
denies  that  the  unity  of  persons  need  itself  be  personal.  And 
experience  gives  us  examples  of  this  in  every  body  corporate. 
On  the  other  hand  Lotze  himself,  when  he  speaks  of  a  personal 
Absolute,  commits  the  very  fault  which  he  deprecates.  For 
personality  without  a  Non-Ego  is  just  as  alien  to  our  experience 
as  spirit  without  personality.  A  conclusion  is  not,  of  course, 
proved  to  be  false,  because  neither  our  knowledge  nor  our 
imagination  enables  us  to  see  how  it  can  be  true.  But  what- 
ever amount  of  doubt  is  thrown  on  a  conclusion  by  such  an 
inability  on  our  part,  belongs,  in  this  controversy,  not  to  the 
denial  of  the  personality  of  the  Absolute,  but  to  its  affirmation. 

73.  To  supplement  his  arguments  for  the  possibility  of  the 
personality  of  the  Absolute,  Lotze  gives,  as  we  have  seen,  two 
positive  arguments  to  prove  that  the  personality  is  real.  The 
first  is  that  we  are  immediately  certain  that  the  most  perfect 
must  be  real.  The  second  is  that  the  points  in  which  the 
Absolute  differs  from  a  finite  being  are  points  which  make  it 
more  truly  personal  than  any  finite  being  can  be. 

It  is  only  as  suggesting  the  immediate  certainty  of  the 
reality  of  the  most  perfect  that  Lotze  allows  any  validity  to  the 
Ontological  Argument.  As  a  formal  demonstration  it  cannot 
survive  Kant's  criticism.  The  Cosmological  Argument  does  not 
profess  to  prove  a  personal  God,  and  the  Physico-Theological 
Argument,  if  it  proved  anything,  could  only  prove,  at  the  most, 
an  external  creator  of  the  part  of  reality  which  we  know.  It  could 
never  prove  that  all  reality  formed  a  whole  which  was  a  person. 

"It  is  an  immediate  certainty,"  says  Lotze,  "that  what  is 
greatest,  most  beautiful,  most  worthy,  is  not  a  mere  thought, 
but  must  be  a  reality,  because  it  would  be  intolerable  to  believe 
of  our  ideal  that  it  is  an  idea  produced  by  the  action  of  thought 
but  having  no  existence,  no  power,  and  no  validity  in  the  world 
of  reality.  We  do  not  from  the  perfection  of  that  which  is 
perfect  immediately  deduce  its  reality  as  a  logical  consequence ; 
^  Outlines  of  the  Philosophy  of  Religion,  Section  24. 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE      71 

but  without  the  circumlocution  of  a  deduction  we  directly  feel 
the  impossibility  of  its  non-existence,  and  all  semblance  of 
syllogistic  proof  only  serves  to  make  more  clear  the  directness  of 
this  certainty.  If  what  is  greatest  did  not  exist,  then  what  is 
greatest  would  not  be,  and  it  is  impossible  that  that  which  is  the 
greatest  of  all  conceivable  things  should  not  be.  Many  other 
attempts  may  be  made  to  exhibit  the  internal  necessity  of  this 
conviction  as  logically  demonstrable;  but  all  of  them  must  fail." 
Nor  can  we,  he  continues,  "prove  from  any  general  logical 
truth  our  right  to  ascribe  to  that  which  has  such  worth  its 
claim  to  reality ;  on  the  contrary,  the  certainty  of  this  claim 
belongs  to  those  inner  experiences  to  which,  as  to  the  given 
object  of  its  labour,  the  mediating,  inferring,  and  fimiting 
activity  of  cognition  refers^." 

74.  If  we  take  this  strictly,  we  can  merely  note  the  fact  that 
Lotze  had  this  immediate  certainty  as  a  biographical  incident 
of  more  or  less  interest.  Nothing  that  he  has  said  can  be  of 
any  force  in  determining  the  opinion  of  others.  If  A  has  this 
immediate  certainty,  he  believes  that  the  greatest  must  be 
real,  but  he  believes  it,  not  because  Lotze  has  this  certainty, 
or  because  he  himself  ought  to  have  it,  but  because  he  has  it. 
This  immediate  certainty  can  neither  be  confirmed  nor  shaken 
by  any  external  considerations.  For  if  it  were  affected  by 
reasons,  it  would  be  a  logical  conclusion,  which  is  just  what 
it  is  not.  But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  B  has  not  got  this  im- 
mediate certainty — and  it  is  beyond  doubt  that  many  people 
have  not  got  it — then  that  concludes  the  controversy  so  far 
as  he  is  concerned.  We  must  not  argue  that  he  is  wrong  not 
to  have  it,  because  it  is  a  reasonable  belief,  or  because  most 
people  have  it,  or  because  the  people  who  have  it  are  cleverer 
or  better  than  those  who  do  not.  Whether  these  statements 
are  true  or  not,  they  are  completely  irrelevant.  For,  if  they 
were  relevant,  then  the  conclusion  would  not  rest  on  the  fact 
that  it  is  believed,  but  on  the  fact  that  it  ought  to  be  believed — 
that  is,  that  there  are  reasons  why  we  should  believe  it.  Now 
the  whole  contention  was  that  it  was  not  believed  for  reasons. 

1  Microcoamua,  Bk  ix.  chap,  rv  (iii.  561,  trans,  ii.  670) 


72      THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

When  a  man  asserts  that  he  has  an  immediate  certainty 
of  a  truth,  he  doubtless  deprives  other  people  of  the  right 
to  argue  with  him.  But  he  also — though  this  he  sometimes 
forgets — deprives  himself  of  the  right  to  argue  with  other 
people.  Even  the  statement  of  his  immediate  certainty  can  only 
be  justified  if  it  is  put  forward  as  a  reason  for  declining 
controversy,  or  as  a  contribution  to  psychological  statistics,  or 
to  his  own  biography.  To  volunteer  it  as  a  contribution  to  the 
study  of  the  subject  to  which  the  certainty  refers  is — in  at 
least  one  sense  of  the  word — impertinent.  Nothing  can  be 
more  important  to  me,  in  respect  of  any  branch  of  knowledge, 
than  my  own  immediate  certainties  about  it.  Nothing  can  be 
less  important  than  the  immediate  certainties  of  other  people. 

75.  But  if  the  assertion  that  the  most  perfect  must  be 
real  took  up  a  less  lofty  position,  and  presented  itself  as  a 
proposition  which  reason  directed  us  to  believe,  what  could 
then  be  said  of  it?  If  it  is  put  forward  as  the  basis  on  which 
to  found  a  system  of  metaphysics,  it  must  clearly,  I  think,  be 
condemned  as  worthless.  The  most  that  could  be  said  against 
the  denial  of  it  would  be  that,  if  that  denial  was  true,  the 
world  would  be  a  wicked  and  miserable  place.  And  what  right 
have  we  to  take  this  as  a  reductio  ad  absurdimi'^  How  do  we 
know  that  the  world  is  not  a  wicked  and  miserable  place? 
It  is  all  very  well  for  our  aspirations  after  virtue  and  happiness 
to  say  that  they  must  live.  But  what  if  the  universe  replies 
that  it  does  not  see  the  necessity?  It  can  scarcely  be  denied 
that  it  has  the  power  to  act  on  its  convictions. 

76.  The  question  takes  a  very  different  form,  however, 
if  we  regard  an  idealist  system  of  metaphysics  as  being  already 
demonstrated.  For  if  the  universe  is  proved  to  be  rational, 
and  we  can  fuither  prove  that  it  could  not  be  rational  unless 
a  certain  proposition  be  true,  it  will,  of  course,  be  perfectly 
logical  to  conclude  that  the  proposition  must  be  true.  Now 
Hegel  unquestionably  holds  the  Absolute  to  be  an  harmonious 
whole.  And  we  saw  reason  to  believe,  in  the  last  chapter, 
that  the  fundamental  differentiations  of  the  Absolute  were  all 
persons,  and  that  the  whole  nature  of  the  Absolute  is  adequately 
expressed   in   the   conscious   relations   between   persons.      If, 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE      73 

therefore,  it  can  be  proved  that  the  consciousness  of  the  per- 
sonality of  the  Absolute  is  essential  to  harmonious  conscious 
relations  between  the  persons  who  compose  it,  we  should  have 
a  good  ground  for  believing  in  the  personality  of  the  Absolute^. 
Now  sin  and  misery  are  incompatible  with  the  harmony  of 
conscious  beings.  If  they  are  to  be  harmonious  they  must  be 
virtuous  and  happy — or  else  in  some  higher  state  which  tran- 
scends and  includes  virtue  and  happiness.  And  so  if  the 
consciousness  of  the  personality  of  the  Absolute  was  shown 
to  be  essential  to  the  virtue  and  happiness  of  finite  persons, 
we  could,  on  the  basis  of  Hegel's  philosophy,  legitimately 
conclude  that  the  Absolute  was  a  person. 

But  how  can  the  consciousness  of  the  personality  of  the 
Absolute  be  shown  to  be  essential  to  the  virtue  and  happiness 
of  finite  persons?  It  would  not  suffice  if  it  were  showm  to  be 
essential  for  the  virtue  and  happiness  of  every  human  being 
who  is  now  living,  or  who  has  lived  since  the  beginning  of 
history.  For  what  must  be  shown  is  that,  without  the  belief 
in  a  personal  Absolute,  finite  persons  could  not  be  perfectly 
virtuous  and  happy.  And  the  fact  that  no  person  has  been  so 
yet,  if  it  were  a  fact,  would  prove  nothing  of  the  sort.  We  are 
very  far  as  yet  from  perfection.  And  so  we  continually  make 
demands  on  reahty  which  are  so  far  from  being  conditions 
of  perfect  and  harmonious  existence,  that,  if  realised,  they 
would  utterly  destroy  all  harmony.  In  our  ignorance  we 
suppose  our  happiness  to  lie  in  what  could  only  lead  to  our 
misery,  we  seek  as  a  help  what  would  prove  a  hindrance. 
That  this  is  so  in  many  cases  is  one  of  the  common-places 
of  moralists.  Now,  even  if  the  belief  in  the  personality  of  the 
Absolute  was  invariably  requisite,  as  far  as  our  experience 
reached,  to  happiness  or  virtue,  how  can  we  tell  that  this  is 
not  one  of  those  cases  ?  How  can  we  tell  that  wiser  men  would 
not  find  greater  happiness  elsewhere,  that  better  men  would 
not  rise  without  its  aid  to  loftier  virtue?  We  may  not  be 
able  to  say  positively  that  they  would,  but  that  is  not  sufiicient. 

^  If  the  consciousness  of  the  personality  were  necessary,  the  personality 
would  be  necessary,  for  a  mistaken  belief  in  the  personaUty  would  be  an 
intellectual  error,  incompatible  with  harmony. 


74     THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

If  we  are  to  be  able  to  deduce,  in  this  way,  the  personality  of 
the  Absolute,  we  must  be  able  to  say  positively  that  they 
would  not. 

77.  It  is  superfluous  to  point  out,  moreover,  that  mankind 
has  by  no  means  been  unanimous  in  demanding  a  personal  God. 
Neither  Brahmanism  nor  Buddhism  makes  the  Supreme  Being 
personal,  but  each  of  them  holds  that  it  is  possible  for  men  to 
reach  a  state  of  perfect  blessedness.  And,  in  the  western  world, 
many  wise  men  have  been  both  virtuous  and  happy,  who  denied 
the  personality  of  God.  It  is  sufficient  to  mention  Spinoza  and 
Hume.  I  am  far  from  suggesting  that  we  have  any  reason,  on. 
such  inductions  as  these  facts  would  open  to  us,  to  conclude 
that  the  denial  of  God's  personality  tends  to  greater  virtue  or 
happiness  than  its  assertion.  But  I  think  that  they  are 
conclusive  against  any  attempt  to  prove  that  the  assertion 
always  leads  to  greater  virtue  or  happiness  than  the  denial. 

78.  The  only  way  in  which  we  could  hope  to  prove  that  the 
consciousness  of  the  personality  of  the  Absolute  was  essential 
either  to  perfect  virtue  or  to  perfect  happiness  would  be  by  an 
argument  d  'priori.  For  we  are  stiU  too  far  removed  from 
perfect  virtue  and  happiness  for  any  inductions  from  our  present 
condition  to  have  the  least  value.  If,  however,  we  could  by  an 
a  priori  argument  so  determine  the  nature  of  a  perfect  finite 
being  as  to  include,  as  a  necessary  element  in  its  perfection,  the 
consciousness  of  a  personal  Absolute,  we  should  then  know  that 
the  personality  of  the  Absolute  was  an  essential  characteristic 
of  a  perfect  universe,  and  therefore,  on  the  basis  of  Hegel's 
idealism,  might  be  accepted  as  true. 

But,  so  far  as  I  know,  no  attempt  has  been  made  to  do  this. 
And  it  is  not  easy  to  see  on  what  ground  such  a  demonstration 
could  be  based.  Of  course,  if  the  Absolute  were  personal,  no 
finite  being  could  be  perfect  without  perceiving  it,  since  other- 
wise the  limitation  of  his  knowledge,  or  its  erroneous  character, 
would  destroy  the  harmony  of  his  nature.  But,  if  the  Absolute 
were  not  personal,  I  can  conceive  nothing  in  the  recognition  of 
that  fact  which  need  mar  the  harmony  of  the  person  who 
recognizes  it.  He  will  know  the  other  finite  persons  in  the 
universe.     He    vdW   feel    that    his    relations    with    them   are 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE      75 

consistent  with  his  own  deepest  and  most  fundamental 
nature.  Why  should  he  be  dissatisfied  because  the  unity 
in  which  those  relations  bind  him  and  them  is  not  itself  a 
person  ? 

79.  We  now  pass  to  Lotze's  second  positive  argument.  He 
asserts  that  "of  the  full  personality  which  is  possible  only  for 
the  Infinite  a  feeble  reflection  is  given  also  to  the  finite ;  for  the 
characteristics  peculiar  to  the  finite  are  not  producing  con- 
ditions of  self-existence,  but  obstacles  to  its  unconditioned 
development,  although  we  are  accustomed,  .unjustifiably,  to 
deduce  from  these  characteristics  its  capacity  of  personal 
existence.  The  finite  being  always  works  with  powers  with 
which  it  did  not  endow  itself,  and  according  to  laws  which 
it  did  not  establish — that  is,  it  works  by  means  of  a  mental 
organization  which  is  realised  not  only  in  it,  but  also  in 
innumerable  similar  beings.  Hence  in  reflecting  on  self  it  may 
easily  seem  to  it  as  though  there  were  in  itself  some  obscure 
and  unknown  substance — something  which  is  in  the  Ego  though 
it  is  not  the  Ego  itself,  and  to  which,  as  to  its  subject,  the 
whole  personal  development  is  attached.  And  hence  there  arise 
the  questions — never  to  be  quite  silenced — What  are  we  our- 
selves? What  is  our  soul?  What  is  our  self — that  obscure 
being,  incomprehensible  to  ourselves,  that  stirs  in  our  feelings 
and  our  passions,  and  never  rises  into  complete  self-con- 
sciousness? The  fact  that  these  questions  can  arise  shows  how 
far  personality  is  from  being  developed  in  us  to  the  extent 
which  its  notion  admits  and  requires.  It  can  be  perfect  only  in 
the  Infinite  Being  which,  in  surveying  all  its  conditions  or 
actions,  never  finds  any  content  of  that  which  it  suffers,  or  any 
law  of  its  working,  the  meaning  and  origin  of  which  are  not 
transparently  plain  to  it,  and  capable  of  being  explained  by 
reference  to  its  own  nature.  Further  the  position  of  the  finite 
mind,  which  attaches  it  as  a  constituent  of  the  whole  to  some 
definite  place  in  the  cosmic  order,  requires  that  its  inner  life 
should  be  awakened  by  successive  stimuli  from  without,  and 
that  its  course  should  proceed  according  to  the  laws  of  a 
psychical  mechanism,  in  obedience  to  which  individual  ideas, 
feelings,   and  efforts  press  upon  and  supplant  one  another. 


76      THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

Hence  the  whole  self  can  never  be  brought  together  at  any  one 
moment,  our  self-consciousness  never  presents  to  us  a  complete 
and  perfect  picture  of  our  Ego — not  even  of  its  nature  at  any 
moment,  and  much  less  of  the  unity  of  its  development  in  time. 
...In  point  of  fact  we  have  little  ground  for  speaking  of  the 
personality  of  finite  beings ;  it  is  an  ideal,  which,  Hke  all  that  is 
ideal,  belongs  unconditionally  only  to  the  Infinite,  but  like  all 
that  is  good  appertains  to  us  only  conditionally  and  hence 
imperfectly^." 

80.  It  may  be  freely  admitted  that  a  perfect  personality  is 
a  self-determined  whole,  not  hampered  and  thwarted  from  the 
outside,  and  that  the  Absolute  is  such  a  whole.  It  must  also  be 
granted  that  every  finite  self  is  in  relation  to,  and  determined 
by,  its  surroundings.  But  it  does  not  follow  from  these  ad- 
missions, either  that  the  finite  person  is  not  a  perfect  realisation 
of  personality,  or  that  the  Absolute  is  a  person  at  all.  For 
determination  from  outside  is  compatible  with  complete  self- 
determination,  and  thus  the  finite  person  may  be  a  self- 
determined  whole.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  not  every 
self-determined  whole  is  a  person,  and  the  Absolute  may 
therefore  be  self-determined  without  being  personal. 

Every  self-determined  whole  is  a  unity.  And  every  unity 
must,  as  Hegel  teaches  us,  have  a  multiplicity  connected  with 
it.  But  there  are  two  ways  in  which  this  may  happen.  The 
multiplicity  may  be  simply  inside  the  unity  which  it  difieren- 
tiates.  Or  it  may  be  outside  that  unity.  It  can  never  be 
merely  outside  it,  for  in  that  case  it  would  not  affect  it  at  all. 
But,  in  this  case,  it  is  in  the  unity,  only  because,  and  in  so  far 
as,  it  is  also  outside  it.  We  may  say  of  these  different  relations 
to  multiplicity  that  in  the  first  case  the  unity  is  a  system  of 
differentiations,  in  the  second  it  is  a  centre  of  differentiations. 
One  unity  is  as  real  as  the  other,  but  they  differ,  and  the 
difference  is  important. 

The  Absolute  has  the  first  sort  of  unity.  Its  multiplicity 
is  necessarily  due  to  differentiations  inside  it,  since  nothing 
exists  outside  it.    On  the  other  hand  the  finite  self  has  the 

^  op.  cit.  Bk  IX.  chap,  iv  (iii.  577 — 579,  trans,  ii.  685 — 687). 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE      77 

second  sort  of  unity.  Its  multiplicity  is  in  one  sense  inside  it, 
since  nothing  can  differentiate  consciousness  which  is  not  in 
consciousness.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  multiphcity  is 
equally  outside  the  self.  All  knowledge,  all  volition,  all  emotions 
involve  a  reference  to  some  other  reality  as  well  as  to  the  self 
which  knows,  wills,  and  feels.  Suppose  the  self  to  exist  alone, 
all  other  reality  being  destroyed,  and  all  the  content  of  the  self 
goes,  and  the  self  with  it. 

It  is  difficult  to  illustrate  this  distinction  by  other  examples, 
because  it  i^  found  in  perfection  nowhere  else.  There  is  nothing 
but  the  Absolute  which  has  no  external  relations.  There  is, 
I  think,  nothing  but  a  finite  person  which  has  no  completely 
internal  relations.  But  we  may  perhaps  make  the  point  clearer 
by  comparing  the  nature  of  a  state  with  that  of  a  citizen 
(taking  him  merely  as  a  citizen,  not  in  any  of  his  other  aspects). 
The  state  and  the  citizen  are  equally  unities.  They  are  equally 
dependent  on  multiplicity.  But  the  state  has  a  multiplicity 
within  itself,  and  can  be  conceived  without  reference  to  any- 
thing external.  As,  in  fact,  it  has  reality  outside  it,  it  has 
relations  to  external  objects.  But  if  it  were  the  only  thing  in 
the  universe,  it  would  not  fail  for  want  of  multiplicity,  since 
it  has  difierentiations  outside  itself.  The  position  of  a  citizen 
is  quite  different.  His  existence  as  a  citizen  depends  on  the 
existence  of  other  human  beings.  For,  although  a  man  might 
be  able  to  exist  in  a  world  which,  beside  himself,  contained 
only  the  lower  animals  and  inorganic  matter,  it  is  clear  that 
he  could  not  be  a  citizen.  Withdraw  the  relations  to  his 
fellow-citizens,  and  the  citizen  ceases  to  exist  as  such. 

(It  may  be  remarked  that  when  these  two  sorts  of  unities 
are  considered  by  an  atomistic  system  of  metaphysics,  the  failure 
to  recognize  their  reality  leads  to  a  different  fallacy  in  each 
case.  In  the  case  of  a  unity  of  system,  atomism  concludes 
that,  since  it  has  no  particular  existence  separate  from  its  parts, 
it  is  a  mere  aggregate  of  those  parts,  and  has  no  qualities  except 
the  resultant  of  the  qualities  which  such  parts  would  have  when 
isolated.  In  a  case  of  a  unity  of  centre,  atomism  denies  that 
it  has  any  reality  at  all,  since  it  has  no  reality  in  isolation  from 
other  things.    Thus  in  such  a  system  as  Hume's,  the  universe 


78      THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

becomes  a  mere  aggregate,  but  the  soul  is  rejected  altogether. 
The  comparative  favour  extended  to  the  unity  of  system  is  to 
be  ascribed  to  the  belief  that  units  can  be  added  together 
without  altering  them.  If  atomism  realised  that  any  sort  of 
combination  must  affect  internally  the  combined  units,  it  would 
be  forced  to  reject  the  universe  as  utterly  as  it  rejects  the  self.) 

81.  There  is  no  doubt  to  which  of  these  two  species  of 
unities  the  finite  person  belongs.  His  existence  obviously 
depends  on  his  external  relations.  Indeed,  as  was  said  above, 
there  is  no  other  example,  except  the  finite  self,  which  com- 
pletely realises  this  type.  But  it  does  not  follow  that  the 
finite  person  is,  therefore,  imperfect  as  a  person.  A  perfect 
person  must,  certainly,  be  self-determined.  But  then  there 
is  nothing  to  prevent  the  finite  person  from  being  self-deter- 
mined. 

Hegel  has  shown  in  the  Logic,  when  treating  of  Quality, 
that  determination  by  another  involves  determination  by  self. 
But  the  self-determination  which  is  considered  in  such  an  early 
stage  of  the  dialectic,  is,  of  course,  a  comparatively  abstract 
and  unreal  notion.  If  a  person  is  to  be  considered  as  self- 
determined,  a  fuller  and  deeper  self-determination  must  be 
meant.  It  is  characteristic  of  a  person  that  he  has  an  ideal,  to 
which  his  actual  existence  may  or  may  not  conform.  There 
would  be  no  meaning  in  saying  that  a  stone  ought  to  have  a 
different  shape  from  that  which  it  actually  has — unless  we  were 
considering  some  external  relation  which  the  stone  bore  to 
conscious  beings.  It  has  no  ideal  of  existence,  which  would 
enable  us  to  say  that,  in  itself,  it  was  less  perfect  than  it  ought 
to  be.  But  there  is  a  very  intelligible  meaning  when  it  is  said 
of  a  drunkard  or  a  fool — either  by  himself  or  by  others — that 
he  is  not  what  he  should  be,  and  this  without  reference  to  his 
effect  upon  any  other  person. 

When  an  individual  proposes  an  end  to  himself,  as  every 
person  does,  we  cannot  call  such  an  individual  self-determined 
unless  that  ideal  is  realised  in  his  actual  condition.  And,  if  it 
is  so  reahsed,  we  call  him  completely  self-determined — with 
some  reservation  in  the  case  of  an  ideal  which  we  conceive 
to  be  imperfect,  and  therefore  transitory.    Now  there  is  no 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE      79 

reason  whatever  why  a  finite  person  should  be  incapable  of 
realising  his  ideal  nature.  He  can  only  do  so,  no  doubt,  by  his 
relations  to  others.  But  why  should  he  be  unable  to  do  it 
perfectly  in  this  way?  The  finite  persons  that  we  know 
have  no  aspect  of  their  nature  which  does  not  come  under 
knowledge,  volition,  or  emotion.  If  all  these  were  realised  in 
their  perfection — whether  that  perfection  lay  in  themselves,  or 
in  some  higher  unity  to  which  they  all  led — we  could  conceive 
nothing  more  wanting  to  the  perfect  development  of  the  person. 
Now  so  far  from  knowledge,  volition,  and  emotion  being 
hampered,  or  restrained  from  perfection,  by  the  relation  to 
outside  reality  of  the  person  who  experiences  them,  we  find 
that  they  actually  consist  in  his  relations  to  outside  reality. 

82.  We  may  notice,  too,  that  as  our  personality  becomes 
more  self-determined,  its  relations  with  outside  reality  become 
more  vivid,  intimate,  and  complex.  A  man  of  clear  thought, 
firm  will,  and  intense  feelings,  living  under  favourable  circum- 
stances in  a  community  of  civilized  men,  is  sui-ely  a  more 
perfect  person,  and  more  completely  self-determined,  than  an 
idiot,  or  a  baby.  But  such  a  man  certainly  realises  more 
vividly  than  an  idiot  or  a  baby  the  distinction  between  himself 
and  the  surrounding  reality,  and  is  more  fully  conscious  of  the 
way  in  which  his  relations  to  that  reality  permeate  and  deter- 
mine his  whole  nature. 

There  can  be  only  one  meaning  in  calling  a  thing  imperfect 
without  qualification — that  it  does  not  realise  the  ideal  inherent 
in  its  nature.  Now  what  necessary  imperfection  in  the  realisa- 
tion of  my  nature  is  brought  about  by  the  mere  fact  that  I  am 
not  the  universe?  What  postulate  or  aspiration  is  involved  in 
personality  which  is  incompatible  with  external  relations  on 
the  part  of  the  person?  Lotze  mentions  none,  nor  can  I 
conceive  what  they  would  be. 

Of  course,  if  the  relations  of  the  person  with  the  rest  of 
reality  are  such  as  to  cramp  and  thwart  the  development  of  his 
ideal  nature,  then  the  personality  will  be  rendered  more  or  less 
imperfect.  But  then  the  imperfection — which  is  never  quite 
absent,  no  doubt,  in  the  world  we  live  in — is  not  the  result  of 
the  finitude.     It  is  not  because  we  are  in  relation  to  other 


80      THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

reality  that  we  are  imperfect,  but  because  we  are  in  the  wrong 
relations. 

Relation  to  something  external  does  not  in  itself  destroy 
the  harmony  of  the  related  object.  No  doubt  it  does  so  in  any 
being  which  does  not  accept  and  acquiesce  in  the  relation.  For 
then  there  would  be  conflict  and  not  harmony.  Nothing 
could  be  less  harmonious  than  the  state  of  a  finite  being  who 
was  trying  to  realise  an  ideal  of  isolation.  But  if  the  ideal 
which  he  posited  was  one  of  life  as  a  part  of  a  vitally  connected 
whole — and  such  an  ideal  does  not  seem  repugnant  to  our 
nature — what  want  of  harmony  would  be  introduced  by  the 
fact  that  he  was  a  member  of  such  a  whole? 

83.  There  is  thus  no  reason  to  hold  that  a  finite  person  is 
necessarily  an  imperfect  person.  And,  even  if  this  were  so,  it 
would  give  us  no  reason  to  believe  that  the  Absolute  was 
a  person.  It  is  true  that  the  Absolute  is  not  finite,  and  is 
not  related  to  anything  outside  itself.  And  therefore  it  has 
a  quality  which,  if  it  were  a  person,  would  make  it  the  only 
perfect  person,  on  this  theory  of  what  constitutes  the  perfection 
of  personality.  But,  even  if  it  were  essential  to  a  perfect  person 
to  have  nothing  outside  him,  it  would  not  follow  that  to  be  the 
whole  of  reality  was  sufficient  to  constitute  a  perfect  person,  or 
even  to  constitute  a  person  at  all.  Personality,  Lotze  has  told 
us,  consists  in  self-enjoyment,  in  "direct  sense  of  self\"  and, 
even  if  we  admit  his  contention  that  only  the  Infinite  could 
have  this  perfectly,  it  does  not  follow  that  the  Infinite  has  it  at 
all.  (I  am  using  Infinite  here  in  the  more  ordinary  sense  of  the 
word.  By  Hegel's  usage  a  "finite"'  person  who  was  not  the 
whole  reality  but  was  completely  harmonious  with  himself 
would  be  as  infinite  as  the  Absolute.) 

84.  Thus  Lotze's  argument  has  two  defects.  He  has  not 
shown  that  the  finitude  of  finite  persons  makes  them  imperfect, 
and  he  has  not  shown  that  the  perfect  self-determination  of  the 
Absolute  is  the  self-determination  of  a  person.  In  leaving  the 
consideration  of  Lotze's  treatment  of  the  subject,  it  is  to  be 
noticed  that  our  objections  to  it  do  not  challenge  Lotze's  right 
to  consider  the  Absolute  as  personal.     For  he  regarded  the 

1  op.  cit.  Bk  IX.  chap,  iv  (iii.  571,  trans,  ii.  679). 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE      81 

Absolute  as  not  exhausted  by  its  manifestations,  and  those 
manifestations  as  to  a  certain  extent,  from  an  ethical  point 
of  view,  outside  the  Absolute.  And  this  obviously  introduces 
fresh  considerations.  We  have  only  dealt  with  those  of  his 
arguments  for  the  personality  of  the  Absolute  which  are  also 
appHcable  to  the  Absolute  as  Hegel  has  conceived  it. 

85.  These  criticisms  of  Lotze  may  suggest  to  us  a  more 
direct  and  independent  argument.  The  finite  person  is  de- 
pendent, for  the  element  of  differentiation  and  multiplicity,  on 
its  relations  with  outside  reality.  And,  while  that  element  is, 
in  one  sense,  inside  the  person,  in  another  sense  it  is  outside  him. 
For  the  person  distinguishes  himself  from  every  element  of  his 
content.  There  is  no  part  of  that  content  which  he  cannot 
make  into  an  object,  and  so  put  over  against  himself  as  the 
subject. 

There  must,  therefore,  be  some  element  in  the  person  other 
than  the  differentiation  or  multiplicity — some  element  which  is 
not  only  inside  the  person  in  the  sense  in  which  the  multiplicity 
is  inside,  but  which  is  also  inside  in  the  sense  in  which  the 
multiplicity  is  outside.  For  unless  something  remains  inside, 
in  this  sense,  it  would  be  impossible  to  say  that  anything  was 
outside.  This  element  can  have  no  differentiation  or  multi- 
plicity in  it.  For  all  multiplicity  belongs  to  the  content  which 
can  be  distinguished  from  the  self,  and  which  can  therefore  be 
said,  in  this  sense,  to  fall  outside  the  person.  It  follows  that 
the  element  in  question  must  be  absolutely  simple  and  in- 
divisible— a  pure  unit. 

Here  again  we  must  be  on  our  guard  against  a  class  of 
objections  to  such  conclusions  as  this,  which,  while  professing 
to  be  objections  to  atomism,  are  really  based  upon  it.  To  deny 
that  an  element  in  a  whole  can  have  a  nature,  which  it  would 
be  impossible  for  the  whole  itself  to  have,  is  an  atomistic  fallacy. 
For  it  tacitly  assumes  that  a  complex  whole  is  built  up  out  of 
its  elements,  and  that  those  elements  could  exist,  or  at  any  rate 
be  imagined,  outside  of  the  whole.  In  that  case  they  would 
themselves  be  wholes,  and  could  have  no  characteristics  incom- 
patible with  this.  But  we  shall  avoid  this  error,  if  we  remember 
that  a  self-subsistent  whole  can  be  analysed  into  elements  which 


82      THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

are  not  self-subsistent,  and  which  cannot  ever  be  imagined  in 
isolation. 

In  the  present  case  we  must  admit  that  such  a  simple  and 
indivisible  unity,  if  taken  for  a  separate  being,  would  not  only 
be  utterly  insignificant,  but  could  not  exist  at  all.  The  only 
category  under  which  we  could  bring  it  would  be  Pure  Being, 
and  it  does  not  require  much  speculative  subtlety  to  see,  in  this 
case,  that  Pure  Being  is  equivalent  to  Nothing.  But  then  we 
do  not  assert  that  such  an  indivisible  element  does  exist  by 
itself.  On  the  contrary,  it  only  exists  in  connection  with  the 
element  of  multiplicity,  and  cannot  exist,  or  be  conceived, 
without  it. 

It  is  also  evident  that  no  such  person  could  exist,  or  be 
conceived  as  existing,  apart  from  all  other  reahty.  For  the 
element  of  the  not-self  in  each  person  is  obviously  dependent 
on  the  existence  of  outside  reahty.  And  the  only  other  element 
in  the  person — the  indivisible  unity  to  which  the  element  of 
the  not-self  stands  in  relation — cannot  exist  except  as  combined 
with  the  element  of  the  not-self.  It  follows,  certainly,  that  an 
isolated  self  is  impossible.  But  this  was  not  denied,  nor  is  it 
incompatible  with  any  of  the  conclusions  which  we  have  pre- 
viously reached.  We  found  reason,  indeed,  in  the  last  chapter, 
to  consider  finite  selves  as  fundamentally  real.  But  they  were 
not  real  as  isolated,  or  as  externally  connected.  They  were  only 
real  as  connected  in  a  unity  which  was  as  close  and  vital  as  its 
differentiations.  Indeed,  it  was  the  very  closeness  of  the  unity 
which  made  us  conclude  that  its  fundamental  differentiations 
could  only  be  selves. 

86.  We  are  thus  entitled  to  adhere  to  our  conclusion  that, 
in  every  finite  person,  a  simple  and  indivisible  unity  exists  as 
an  element.  This  element  is,  of  course,  no  more  essential  to 
the  personahty  than  the  other  element  of  multiplicity.  But, 
although  not  more  essential,  it  may  perhaps  be  called  a  more 
positive  element  of  personality,  for  reasons  somewhat  analogous 
to  those  for  which  the  Thesis  of  a  triad  is  a  more  positive 
element  in  the  Synthesis  than  the  Antithesis  is.  The  element 
of  the  unity  in  the  person  belongs  exclusively  to  him,  while  the 
element  of  the  multiplicity,  though  it  belongs  to  him,  belongs 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE      83 

also  to  the  outside  reality,  with  which  he  is  in  connection.  And, 
while  the  element  of  multiplicity  is  an  element  in  his  nature, 
it  is  only  part  of  his  nature  by  the  fact  that  he  distinguishes 
himself  from  it,  separates  himself  from  it,  and  excludes  it 
from  himself  in  one  sense,  while  he  includes  it  in  another. 
The  element  of  the  unity,  on  the  other  hand,  is  in  no  sense 
distinguishable  from  the  person. 

The  unity  of  the  Absolute  is  as  real  as  its  differentiations, 
and  as  real  as  the  unity  of  a  perfect  finite  self — while  it  is 
much  more  real  than  the  unity  of  a  finite  self  as  it  manifests 
itself  imperfectly  in  this  imperfect  world.  But  the  Absolute  is 
a  unity  of  system,  and  not  a  unity  of  centre,  and  the  element  of 
unity  in  it  cannot  be  a  simple  and  indivisible  point,  like  that 
of  the  finite  self.  For  if  the  unity  is  of  this  sort,  then,  by  virtue 
of  its  simplicity  and  indivisibility,  it  excludes  its  differentiations 
from  itself  in  one  sense,  while  including  them  in  another.  But 
the  Absolute  cannot  exclude  its  differentiations  from  itself  in 
any  sense.  A  finite  person  can  exclude  his  differentiations,  for 
they  have  somewhere  to  exist  in,  in  so  far  as  they  are  excluded 
from  his  self — namely,  the  rest  of  reality,  to  which  in  fact  they 
belong  as  much  as  they  do  to  him.  But  there  is  nothing  outside 
the  Absolute.  And  it  would  therefore  be  impossible  for  it  to 
exclude  its  differentiations  from  itself  in  any  sense.  For  in  as 
far  as  they  are  not  in  it,  they  are  absolutely  non-existent. 

Now  it  seems  to  me  that  it  is  just  the  presence  of  this 
element  of  indivisible  unity  which  forms  for  us  that  "direct 
sense  of  self"  in  which  Lotze  rightly  places  the  positive  essence 
of  personahty.  The  unity,  indeed,  cannot  exist  without  the 
multiplicity.  But  then  it  is  true  of  the  sense  of  self,  also,  that 
it  is  never  found  alone.  We  are  never  conscious  of  self  without 
being  conscious  of  something  else  as  well.  If,  for  us,  the  sense 
of  self  is  not  in  this  element  of  indivisible  unity,  I  cannot  tell 
where  it  is. 

87.  The  Absolute,  as  we  have  seen,  cannot  have  this 
element  of  indivisible  unity.  And,  therefore,  it  cannot  have 
the  personality  that  we  have.  "  But,"  it  will  perhaps  be 
answered,  "it  can  have  some  other  sort  of  personality.  No  one 
ever  supposed  the  Absolute  to  be  exactly  the  same  sort  of 

6—2 


84      THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

person  as  we  are,  and  how  can  we  tell  that  it  cannot  be  a 
person  in  some  different  way  ? " 

This,  however,  is  unjustifiable.  The  position  is  no  longer 
the  same  as  when  we  were  discussing  Lotze's  arguments  for  the 
possibiHty  of  a  sense  of  self  without  a  Non-Ego.  There  we 
admitted  that  the  consciousness  of  the  Non-Ego  was  rwt  the 
direct  sense  of  self,  and  that  we  could  distinguish  in  thought 
the  one  from  the  other.  We  knew  of  no  case  in  which  the  sense 
of  self  was  found  without  the  consciousness  of  the  Non-Ego; 
there  was  nothing  in  experience  which  suggested  that  they 
could  exist  apart;  nor  could  we  even  imagine  in  what  way 
a  direct  sense  of  self  could  exist  without  the  consciousness  of 
the  Non-Ego,  how  it  would  supply  the  place  of  that  conscious- 
ness, or  what  difference  the  change  would  make  to  itself.  Still, 
the  sense  of  self  is  not  the  consciousness  of  the  Non-Ego.  And 
thus  there  is  an  abstract  probability,  though  one  which  is 
almost  valueless,  that  the  sense  of  self  may  exist  where  there 
is  no  Non-Ego,  and  consequently  no  consciousness  of  it. 

But  here  the  case  is  different.  The  sense  of  self  is  the 
indivisible  unity  in  consciousness.  The  Absolute  has  not  the 
indivisible  unity,  and  therefore  it  has  no  sense  of  self.  There- 
fore it  is  not  a  person.  There  is  no  room  left  for  any  further 
possibilities.  If  the  argument  has  any  validity  whatever,  all 
such  possibilities  are  excluded.  The  argument  is  no  longer 
that  the  qualities  of  the  Absolute  are  inconsistent  with  an 
accompaniment  without  which  we  cannot  imagine  personality. 
It  is  that  the  quahties  of  the  Absolute  are  inconsistent  with 
the  essence  of  personality  itself. 

88.  Our  conclusion  then  is  that  personality  cannot  be  an 
attribute  of  a  unity  which  has  no  indivisible  centre  of  reference, 
and  which  is  from  all  points  of  view  (as  the  personalities  we  know 
are  from  one  point  of  view)  all  in  every  part.  The  impossibility 
of  this  may  become  more  obvious  if  we  consider  that  the  dif- 
ferentiations, of  which  the  Absolute  is  the  unity,  are  them- 
selves persons.  If  the  Absolute  had  a  consciousness  of  self, 
that  consciousness  could  not  fall  outside  the  finite  persons. 
For  then  those  persons  would  not  fully  manifest  the  Absolute, 
and  the  relation  would   be   one   of  those   expressed   by  the 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE      85 

categories  of  Essence — which  certainly  cannot  be  an  adequate 
expression  of  the  nature  of  the  Hegelian  Absolute.  And  the 
self-consciousness  of  the  Absolute,  again,  cannot  be  in  each 
differentiation  separately,  for  then  it  would  be  identical  with 
the  self-consciousness  of  each  finite  person,  and  the  Absolute, 
as  a  unity,  would  have  no  self-consciousness  at  all.  But  the 
only  remaining  alternative  is  that  the  self-consciousness  of  the 
Absolute  is  in  the  unity  of  its  differentiations.  Can  we  attach 
any  meaning  to  the  statement  that  one  self-conscious  being 
should  consist  of  a  multiplicity  of  self-conscious  beings,  in 
such  a  way  that  it  had  no  reality  apart  from  them?  Or 
that  one  self-conscious  being  should  be  part  of  another  in 
such  a  way  that  it  had  no  reality  apart  from  it?  And  yet 
these  statements  must  be  accepted  if  the  Absolute  is  to  be 
self-conscious.  If  it  is  more  than  its  differentiations,  we  fall 
into  the  contradictions  of  Essence.  If  it  is  not  more  than 
its  differentiations  it  cannot  distinguish  itself  from  them  with- 
out distinguishing  them  from  itself,  and  so  annihilating  them. 

89.  Of  course  we  might,  if  we  thought  it  worth  while, 
apply  the  term  personality  to  all  spiritual  unities  (or  to  all 
spiritual  unities  where  the  unity  was  as  vital  as  the  differentia- 
tions) and  not  merely  to  those  which  have  a  direct  sense  of 
self  resembling  that  which  we  each  know  in  ourselves.  And 
so  we  should  gain  the  right — whatever  that  may  be  worth — to 
speak  of  the  Absolute  as  personal.  But  this  rather  empty 
gain  would  be  balanced  by  several  serious  inconveniences. 
There  are  two  different  views  about  the  Supreme  Being — one 
that  it  is  a  spiritual  unity,  and  one  that  it  has  a  sense  of  self 
like  our  own.  The  first  of  these  is  not  always  accompanied  by 
the  second,  and  it  is  convenient  to  have  a  separate  name  for 
each.  At  present  we  can  call  the  first  Idealism,  and  the  second 
Theism.  But  if  we  call  Idealism  by  the  name  of  Theism,  we 
shall  have  no  name  left  to  distinguish  those  Theists  who  do, 
and  those  Theists  who  do  not,  take  the  spiritual  unity  in 
question  to  have  a  sense  of  self  with  some  conceivable  re- 
semblance to  our  own.  And  the  distinction,  which  is  thus 
ignored,  is  of  great  importance  for  metaphysics,  and  still  more 
for  religion. 


86      THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

Moreover,  if  the  Absolute  is  to  be  called  a  person  because 
it  is  a  spiritual  unity,  then  every  College,  every  goose-club, 
every  gang  of  thieves,  must  also  be  called  a  person.  For  they 
are  all  spiritual  unities.  They  all  consist  exclusively  of  human 
beings,  and  they  all  unite  their  members  in  some  sort  of  unity. 
Their  unities  are  indeed  much  less  perfect  than  the  unity  of 
the  Absolute.  But  if  an  imperfect  unity  is  not  to  be  called  an 
imperfect  person,  then  the  name  of  person  must  be  denied  to 
ourselves  as  manifested  here  and  now.  For  assuredly  none 
of  us  at  present  have  reached  that  perfect  and  harmonious  self- 
determination  which  is  essential  to  a  perfect  person.  Now  we 
call  ourselves  persons,  but  no  one,  I  believe,  has  ever  proposed 
to  call  a  football  team  a  person.  But  if  we  now  called  the 
Absolute  a  person,  we  should  have  no  defence  for  refusing  the 
name  to  the  football  team.  For  it  shares  its  imperfection 
with  human  beings,  and  its  want  of  a  direct  sense  of  self  with 
the  Absolute.  It  can  only,  therefore,  be  confusing  to  call  the 
Absolute  a  person  because  it  is  a  spiritual  unity. 

It  might  be  suggested  that  the  word  person  should  be 
applied  to  the  Absolute  and  to  ourselves,  to  the  exclusion  of 
other  spiritual  unities,  on  the  ground  that  they  alone  are 
completely  adequate  expressions  of  reality.  The  Absolute,  of 
course,  is  so,  and  finite  persons  are  its  fundamental  differen- 
tiations. And  thus  they  deserve — even  when  manifested 
imperfectly — a  title  which  is  properly  refused  to  unities  which, 
in  perfection,  are  not  perfected  but  transcended.  But  this 
change  in  the  meaning  of  personality  would  also  be  confusing. 
For  it  would  compel  us  to  say  of  such  philosophies  as  Lotze's 
and  Mr  Bradley's,  which  do  not  accept  the  finite  self  as  an 
adequate  expression  of  reaHty,  that  they  denied  human  person- 
ality, which  would  be  a  considerable  departure  from  the 
ordinary  meaning  of  words. 

Thus  considerable  inconvenience  would  be  caused  by  ex- 
tending the  meaning  of  personality  to  include  an  Absolute 
without  a  direct  sense  of  self.  Nor  does  it  appear  what  ad- 
vantage would  be  gained  by  keeping  a  name  when  the  old 
meaning  has  been  surrendered. 

90.     It  has  often  been  suggested  that  the  Absolute,  if  not 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE      87 

a  person,  may  be  something  higher  than  a  person.  And  this 
view  has  often  been  gladly  adopted  by  those  to  whom  the  only 
other  alternative  seemed  to  be  that  it  should  be  something 
lower.  But  from  what  has  been  said  about  the  nature  of  the 
Absolute,  it  will  follow  that  the  whole  question  is  unmeaning. 
The  unity  of  the  Absolute  is  not  more  or  less  perfect  than  that 
unity  of  each  of  its  differentiations  which  we  call  personaUty. 
Each  has  an  entirely  different  ideal  of  perfection — the  Absolute 
to  be  the  unity  of  its  diflferentiations,  the  perfect  differentiation 
to  be  the  unity  of  all  the  surrounding  differentiations.  Neither 
of  these  ideals  is  higher  than  the  other.  Each  is  indispensable 
to  the  other.  The  differentiations  cannot  exist  except  in  the 
Absolute,  nor  could  the  Absolute  exist  unless  each  of  its 
differentiations  was  a  person. 

To  ask  which  of  the  two  is  the  higher  is  as  unmeaning  as 
to  ask  whether  the  state  or  the  citizen^  is  higher.  The  state 
and  the  citizen  have  each  their  own  excellences.  And  these 
cannot  be  compared,  since  they  have  different  ideals  of  ex- 
cellence. The  perfection  of  the  citizen  is  not  to  be  like  a  state, 
nor  the  perfection  of  a  state  to  be  like  a  citizen.  And  neither 
of  them  has  any  worth  except  in  its  difference  from  the  other, 
for,  except  for  that  difference,  neither  could  exist.  A  state 
cannot  exist  without  citizens,  nor  citizens  without  a  state. 

The  general  unwillingness  to  regard  the  Absolute  as  im- 
personal is,  I  think,  largely  due  to  a  failure  to  recognize  this 
complementary  character  of  the  two  unities.  It  is  supposed 
that,  if  the  Absolute  is  not  personal,  it  must  be  higher  or 
lower  than  persons.  To  suppose  it  to  be  lower  might  perhaps 
be  maintained  to  be  impossible,  and  would  certainly  be  cheerless. 
But  if  we  make  the  Absolute  to  be  higher  than  personality, 
it  must  surpass  and  transcend  it,  and  it  is  thus  natural  to  say 
that  the  Absolute  is  personal  and  more. 

91.     I  have  now  explained,  as  far  as  I  am  able,  the  grounds 

on  which  I  think  that  personality  ought  not  to  be  ascribed  to 

^  That  is,  as  citizen.  It  is  quite  possible  to  maintain  that  the  man,  who  is 
the  citizen,  is  an  eternal  and  adequate  expression  of  reahty,  while  the  state 
is  a  transitory  and  imperfect  expression  of  it.  But  then  the  man,  in  so  far  as 
he  is  such  an  eternal  and  adequate  expression,  and  therefore  superior  to  the 
state,  is  not  only  a  citizen. 


88      THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

the  Absolute,  if  we  accept  Hegel's  account  of  the  Absolute  as 
correct.  It  remains  for  us  to  consider  what  effect,  on  our 
conduct  and  our  feelings,  would  be  produced  by  the  general 
adoption  of  such  a  belief — a  behef  which  is,  of  course,  equivalent 
to  a  rejection  of  the  notion  of  a  personal  God.  I  have  en- 
deavoured to  show  above  ^  that  the  nature  of  these  effects  is 
irrelevant  to  the  truth  of  the  belief.  But  it  is  nevertheless 
a  matter  of  interest. 

Let  us  begin  with  the  effects  of  such  a  belief  on  conduct. 
Would  it,  in  the  first  place,  render  virtue  less  binding,  less 
imperative,  than  before?  Surely  not.  Different  philosophers 
have  given  very  differing  accounts  of  the  nature  of  moral 
obligation,  but  I  doubt  if  any  of  them  have  so  bound  it  up 
with  the  notion  of  God's  personality  that  the  disproof  of  that 
personality  would  efface  the  distinction  between  virtue  and 
vice.  Some  moralists,  indeed,  have  asserted  that  any  satis- 
factory morality  rests  entirely  on  the  beUef  that  God  will 
ensure  that  the  righteous  shall  be  happier  than  the  wicked. 
And  it  has  also  been  asserted  that  it  would  be  absurd  to  act 
virtuously  unless  we  believed  that  virtue  would  win  in  the  long 
run.  But  these  two  theories,  while  they  certainly  require  that 
the  Absolute  should  work  for  righteousness,  do  not  require  a 
personal  Absolute.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  hold  it  not 
impossible  to  pursue  the  good,  irrespective  of  our  personal 
happiness,  and  without  the  certainty  of  eventual  victory,  the 
obligation,  whatever  it  may  be,  to  virtuous  action  will  remain 
unaffected  by  whatever  theory  we  may  hold  as  to  the  nature 
of  the  Absolute. 

Nor  would  our  views  on  the  personahty  of  the  Absolute 
affect  our  power  of  determining  particular  actions  to  be  virtuous 
or  vicious.  Some  systems  assert  that  good  and  evil  depend 
on  the  arbitrary  will  of  God.  But  this  is  only  a  theory  of  the 
genesis  of  distinctions  which  are  admitted  to  exist.  Indeed, 
it  is  only  from  the  existence  of  the  distinctions  that  the  will 
of  God  in  the  matter  is  inferred.  If  a  personal  God  were 
rejected,  these  systems  would  require  a  fresh  theory  of  the 
causes  which  make  benevolence  right  and  cowardice  wrong. 

1  Sections  75—78. 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE      89 

But  the  rejection  could  have  no  tendency  to  make  us  suppose 
that  benevolence  was  wrong  and  cowardice  right. 

92.  So  much  is  very  generally  admitted.  It  is  seldom 
asserted  at  the  present  day  that,  without  a  belief  in  a  personal 
God,  we  should  have  no  obhgation  to  be  virtuous,  or  no 
means  of  ascertaining  what  virtue  is.  But  it  is  sometimes 
maintained  that,  without  a  behef  in  a  personal  God,  our 
motives  for  doing  right  would  be  so  diminished  in  strength 
that  we  should  become  perceptibly  less  moral. 

The  point  is  important,  but  I  do  not  see  how  it  is  to  be 
settled.  For,  since  we  are  not  now  discovering  what  we  ought 
to  do  under  the  circumstances,  but  what  we  should  do,  it 
cannot  be  decided  by  abstract  reasoning.  It  is  a  matter  for 
empirical  observation  and  induction.  And  there  seems  to  be 
no  experience  which  is  relevant. 

On  the  one  hand,  we  can  draw  no  inference  from  the  fact 
that  many  people  who  do  believe  in  a  personal  God  use  that 
behef  as  an  incentive  in  well-doing.  It  does  not  follow  that,  if 
it  was  withdrawn,  they  would  do  less  well.  Many  convalescents 
continue  to  use  sticks  which  they  would  find,  if  they  tried,  they 
could  dispense  with.  And  the  abandonment  of  a  behef  is  never 
entirely  a  negative  process.  It  must  produce  positive  changes 
in  the  behefs  which  remain,  and  may  itself  be  caused  by  a  new 
positive  behef.  In  the  present  case  we  only  found  reason  to 
reject  the  idea  of  a  personal  God  because  it  was  incompatible 
with  a  very  positive  notion  of  the  Absolute.  And  the  new 
positive  behefs  whose  arrival  is  the  correlative  of  the  disappear- 
ance of  the  old  one  may  have  the  same  effects  on  action  as  their 
predecessors  had. 

On  the  other  hand  it  is  unfair  to  infer  from  the  cases  of 
men  of  illustrious  virtue  who  have  rejected  the  doctrine  of  a 
personal  God,  that  the  general  rejection  of  that  doctrine  would 
not  injure  morahty.  For  all  men  are  swayed  by  pubhc  opinion 
and  by  tradition ;  and  it  is  impossible  to  demonstrate  the  falsity 
of  the  suggestion  that  the  virtues  of  Atheists  may  depend  in 
part  on  the  Theism  of  their  neighbours  and  parents. 

There  are  countries,  indeed,  in  which  religions  have 
flourished  for  many  years  which  involve,  at  any  rate  for  their 


90      THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

educated  adherents,  the  denial  of  a  personal  supreme  God.  And 
the  fact  that  educated  Brahmanists  and  Buddhists  are  about  as 
virtuous  as  other  men  sufi&ciently  disproves  all  danger  of  a 
complete  moral  collapse  as  a  consequence  of  the  disbelief  in 
God's  personality.  But  then  it  is  impossible  to  prove  that 
the  standard  of  virtue  in  India  and  China  would  not  be  rather 
higher  if  more  of  their  inhabitants  had  adopted  Theistic 
religions,  or  that  the  standard  of  virtue  in  England  would  not 
slightly  fall  with  the  abandonment  of  such  religions. 

93.  The  question  seems  insoluble  except  by  an  experiment 
conducted  on  a  large  scale  for  several  centuries,  and  such  an 
experiment  mankind  seems  in  no  hurry  to  make.  We  may, 
however,  observe  that  there  is  an  argument  commonly  used  on 
such  subjects,  which,  whether  true  or  not,  is  irrelevant  here. 
It  endeavours  to  show  that,  without  the  belief  that  all  things 
work  together  for  good,  and,  in  particular,  without  the  belief 
in  immortality,  men,  or  at  any  rate  most  men,  would  not  have 
sufficient  energy  and  enthusiasm  to  attain  a  high  standard  of 
virtue,  though  the  obligation  to  be  virtuous  would  not  be 
diminished.  Even  if  this  were  so,  it  would  not  prove  that  the 
adoption  of  the  theory  supported  in  this  chapter  would  have 
any  bad  efiect  on  morality.  For  our  theory  is  compatible 
with — is  even  directly  connected  with — the  belief  in  immortality 
which  is  expounded  in  the  last  chapter,  and  the  Absolute, 
although  not  personal,  is  nevertheless  spiritual,  and  cannot, 
therefore,  be  out  of  harmony  with  the  most  fundamental  desires 
of  our  own  spirits. 

Again,  if  nothing  but  the  influence  of  tradition  and  sur- 
roundings keeps  morality  from  deteriorating  when  the  beHef 
in  a  personal  God  is  rejected,  it  might  surely  be  expected  that 
some  trace  of  moral  deterioration  might  be  found  at  those  times 
and  places  when  this  belief  is  most  often  questioned.  And 
I  doubt  if  an  impartial  study  of  history  would  discover  anything 
of  the  sort. 

Whether  the  belief  in  a  personal  God  is  now  more  or  less 
universal  than  it  has  been  in  the  centuries  which  have  passed 
since  the  Renaissance  cannot,  of  course,  be  determined  with 
any  exactness.    But  such  slight  evidence  as  we  have  seems  to 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE      91 

point  to  the  conclusion  that  those  who  deny  it  were  never  so 
numerous  as  at  present.  And  those  who  do  hold  it,  hold  it, 
it  can  scarcely  be  doubted,  with  far  less  confidence.  There  was 
a  time  when  this  belief  was  held  capable  of  demonstration  with 
evidence  equal  to  the  evidence  of  mathematics — a  time  when 
the  safest  basis  for  our  moral  duties  was  held  to  be  a  demon- 
stration that  they  could  be  deduced  from  the  existence  of  God. 
But  at  the  present  time  we  find  that  the  belief  in  a  personal 
God  is,  with  many  men  who  are  counted  as  believing  it,  not 
much  more  than  a  hope,  entertained  with  more  or  less  confidence, 
that  a  doctrine,  the  truth  of  which  appears  to  them  so  eminently 
desirable,  may  in  fact  be  true.  Even  when  arguments  from 
probability  are  accepted,  the  old  ideas  of  mathematical  certainty 
are  seldom  to  be  found.  And  when  attempts  are  made,  at  the 
present  time,  to  show  that  the  personality  of  God  is  logically 
connected  vnth  morality,  it  is  the  personality  of  God,  and  not 
morality,  which  is  thought  to  be  supported  by  the  conjunction. 

All  this  might  be  expected  to  produce  some  change  for  the 
worse  in  our  morahty,  if  our  morality  really  was  dependent  on 
the  behef  in  a  personal  God.  But  is  such  a  deterioration  to 
be  detected?  Our  moral  ideals  change,  no  doubt,  but  in  their 
changes  they  seem  to  become  more,  not  less,  comprehensive. 
And  there  is  nothing  to  suggest  that  we  realise  those  ideals 
to  a  smaller  extent  than  our  ancestors  realised  their  own. 

94.  The  effect  which  the  abandonment  of  the  belief  in 
the  personality  of  God  would  have  on  the  satisfaction  of  our 
emotions  is  perhaps  even  more  interesting  than  its  effect  on 
morality.  But  it  is  even  more  difficult  to  determine.  Some 
people  find  all  love  for  finite  persons  inadequate,  and  are 
unsatisfied  if  they  cannot  also  regard  the  infinite  and  eternal 
with  that  love  which  can  only  be  felt  for  a  person.  Others, 
again,  would  say  that  our  love  for  finite  persons  was  only 
inadequate  in  so  far  as  it  fell  below  its  own  ideal,  and  that,  if 
perfect,  it  would  afford  such  an  utterly  complete  realisation  of 
our  whole  nature,  that  nothing  else  would  be  desirable  or 
possible.  It  would  be  superfluous  to  add  the  love  of  God  to 
a  love  which,  not  in  metaphor,  but  as  a  statement  of  meta- 
physical truth,  must  be  called  God,  and  the  whole  of  God. 


92      THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

Which  of  these  is  the  higher?  Is  it  the  first  class,  because 
they  demand  more  objects  of  love  than  the  second?  Or  is  it 
the  second,  because  they  find  more  in  one  sort  of  love  than 
the  first?  I  do  not  see  how  this  is  to  be  answered.  Or 
rather,  I  do  not  see  how  the  answer  which  each  of  us  will 
give  can  be  of  interest  except  to  himself  and  his  friends. 
For  there  are  no  arguments  by  which  one  side  might  convince 
the  other. 

95.  But  even  if  the  behef  that  there  was  no  personal 
God  were  disadvantageous  to  our  morality  and  our  feehngs, 
would  the  belief  that  the  Absolute  was  personal  be  any  better  ? 
I  think  it  very  improbable.  For  if  there  is  any  reason  to  regard 
the  behef  in  a  personal  God  as  essential  in  these  respects,  it 
can  only  be  the  belief  in  a  personal  God  as  it  has  hitherto 
prevailed  among  mankind.  And  this  belief  certainly  does  not 
refer  to  a  personal  Absolute,  but  to  a  being  who  is  not  the  only 
reality,  though  he  is  the  supreme  reahty.  It  regards  us  as  the 
creatures  of  whom  God  is  the  creator,  as  the  subjects  of  whom 
he  is  the  king,  as  the  children  of  whom  he  is  the  father,  but 
emphatically  not  as  the  parts  of  which  he  is  the  whole,  or  as 
the  differentiations  within  his  unity.  Royalty  and  fatherhood 
are,  indeed,  only  metaphors,  and  admittedly  not  perfectly 
adequate.  But  then  the  fact  that  neither  of  the  related  beings 
is  part  of  the  other  does  not  seem  to  be  a  point  in  which  the 
metaphor  is  considered  as  inadequate.  On  the  contrary,  it 
seems  rather  one  of  the  points  in  the  metaphor  on  which 
popiilar  religion  insists.  However  much  the  dependence  of 
the  human  being  may  be  emphasised,  there  never  seems  any 
tendency  to  include  him  in  the  deity.  (Such  tendencies  indeed 
appear  from  time  to  time  among  mystical  thinkers,  but  they 
are  no  more  evidence  of  the  general  needs  of  mankind  than  the 
other  systems  which  do  without  a  personal  God  at  all.)  And 
this  is  confirmed  by  the  fact  that  the  common  metaphors  all 
agree  on  this  point.  Such  relations  as  that  of  a  cell  to  an 
organism,  or  of  a  citizen  to  the  state,  have  never  been  found  to 
be  appropriate  expressions  of  the  ordinary  religious  emotions. 
It  seems  to  follow  that,  if  the  conception  of  a  personal  God  had 
shown  itself  indispensable  to  our  practical  life,  we  should  find 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE      93 

no  satisfaction  in  such  an  Absolute  as  Hegel's,  even  if  we  had 
contrived  to  regard  it  as  personal. 

96.  One  question  remains.  Is  it  appropriate  to  call  the 
Absolute  by  the  name  of  God,  if  we  deny  it  personality  ?  There 
is  eminent  authority  in  philosophy — especially  that  of  Spinoza 
and  of  Hegel  himself — for  giving  this  name  to  the  true  reality, 
whatever  that  may  be.  But  this  seems  wasteful.  We  have 
three  distinct  conceptions,  (a)  the  true  reahty  whatever  it  may 
be,  (6)  a  spiritual  unity,  (c)  a  spiritual  unity  which  is  a  person. 
We  have  only  two  names  to  serve  for  all  three — the  Absolute 
and  God — and,  if  we  use  them  as  synonymous,  we  wilfully  throw 
away  a  chance  of  combining  clearness  and  brevity. 

Then  there  is  no  doubt  that  God  is  not  used  in  that  sense 
in  popular  phraseology.  In  popular  phraseology  God  is  only  used 
of  a  spiritual  unity  which  is  a  person.  In  such  a  matter  as  this, 
I  submit,  philosophy  ought  to  conform  its  terminology  to  that 
of  popular  usage.  It  is  impossible  to  keep  philosophical  terms 
exclusively  for  the  use  of  philosophical  students.  Whenever 
the  subject  is  one  of  general  interest — and  the  existence  of  a 
God  is  certainly  one  of  these — the  opinions  of  great  philosophers 
will  be  reported  at  second  hand  to  the  world  at  large.  And  if 
the  world  at  large  hears  Spinoza  described  as  a  "God-intoxicated 
man,"  or  as  more  truly  an  Acosmist  than  an  Atheist,  or  if  it 
finds  that  Hegel's  Logic  is  one  long  attempt  to  determine  the 
nature  of  God,  it  will  be  very  apt  to  conceive  that  Spinoza  and 
Hegel  believed  in  God  as  a  person.  Now  it  is  universally 
admitted  that  Spinoza  did  nothing  of  the  kind,  and  I  shall  try 
to  prove,  in  chapter  viii,  that  Hegel  did  not  do  so  either.  At 
any  rate  it  is  clear  that  his  use  of  the  word  God  proves,  when 
we  consider  his  definition  of  it,  nothing  at  all  as  to  his  belief  in 
a  personal  God. 

If  the  philosophical  and  the  popular  usage  ought  to  be 
made  identical,  it  is  clear  that  it  is  philosophy  that  ought  to 
give  way.  The  terminology  of  a  special  branch  of  study  may 
be  changed  by  the  common  action  of  a  moderate  number  of 
writers  on  philosophy.  But  to  change  the  popular  meaning  of 
the  word  God,  and  its  equivalents  in  the  other  European 
languages,  in  the  mouths  of  the  milhons  of  people  who  use 


94      THE  PERSONALITY  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

them,  would  be  impossible,  even  if  it  were  desirable.  Besides, 
the  popular  terminology  has  no  word  by  which  it  can  replace 
God,  while  philosophy  has  already  a  synonym  for  God  in  the 
wider  sense — namely  the  Absolute.  And,  finally,  philosophers 
are  by  no  means  unanimous  in  agreeing  with  the  usage  of 
Spinoza  and  Hegel.  Kant  himself  uses  God  in  the  narrower 
sense. 

I  think,  therefore,  that  it  will  be  best  to  depart  from 
Hegel's  own  usage,  and  to  express  our  result  by  saying  that 
the  Absolute  is  not  God,  and,  in  consequence,  that  there  is  no 
God.  This  corollary  imphes  that  the  word  God  signifies  not 
only  a  personal,  but  also  a  supreme  being,  and  that  no  finite 
difierentiation  of  the  Absolute,  whatever  his  power  and  wisdom, 
would  be  entitled  to  the  name.  It  may  be  objected  that  this 
would  cause  the  theory  of  the  dialectic  to  be  classed,  under  the 
name  of  Atheism,  with  very  different  systems — such  as  deny 
the  unity  of  all  reality  to  be  spiritual,  or  deny  it  to  be  more 
vital  than  a  mere  aggregate.  But  all  negative  names  must  be 
more  or  less  miscellaneous  in  their  denotation.  It.  is  much 
more  important  to  preserve  a  definite  meaning  for  Theism  than 
for  Atheism,  and  this  can  only  be  done  if  Theism  is  uniformly 
used  to  include  a  behef  in  the  personaUty  of  God. 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE   SUPREME   GOOD   AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION 

97.  What  may  we  conclude,  on  Hegelian  principles,  about 
the  Supreme  Good?  The  Logic  has  given  us  the  Absolute 
Idea,  which  stands  to  knowledge  in  the  same  relation  as  the 
idea  of  the  Supreme  Good,  if  there  is  one,  stands  to  action.  In 
examining  the  Absolute  Idea,  we  find  it  involves  the  existence 
of  a  unity  of  individuals,  each  of  whom,  perfectly  individual 
through  his  perfect  unity  with  all  the  rest,  places  before  himself 
an  end  and  finds  the  whole  of  the  universe  in  complete  harmony 
with  that  end. 

If  we  have  been  justified  in  taking  the  Absolute  Idea  as 
only  expressible  in  a  unity  of  individuals,  the  rest  of  this  de- 
scription clearly  follows.  The  individuals  must  be  in  harmony, 
and  how  can  a  conscious  individual  be  in  harmony  with  another, 
except  by  proposing  an  end  to  which  that  other  is  a  means, 
though  not,  of  course,  a  mere  means  ^? 

This  is  the  supreme  reality — the  only  reality  sub  specie 
aeternitatis,  the  goal  of  the  process  of  the  universe  sub  specie 
temporis.  It  will  be  very  desirable  if  we  can  identify  the 
supreme  reality  with  the  supreme  good. 

It  is  not  the  supreme  good  simply  because  it  is  the  supreme 
reaUty.  This  is  scarcely  more  than  a  truism.  But  it  always 
wants  repetition,  and  never  more  than  at  present.  It  is  often 
asserted  that  ideals  are  real  because  they  are  good,  and  from 
this  it  follows  by  formal  logic  that,  if  they  were  not  real,  they 

^  Note  to  Second  Edition.  I  have  omitted  a  further  argument  for  the 
same  conclusion  which  was  based  on  a  view,  which  I  now  think  erroneous,  of 
some  categories  of  the  Logic. 


96    THE  SIJPIIEME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION 

would  not  be  good.  Against  this  we  must  protest  for  the  sake 
both  of  truth  and  of  goodness.  The  idea  of  the  good  comes 
from  that  paradoxical  power  which  is  possessed  by  every 
conscious  member  of  the  universe — the  power  to  judge  and 
condemn  part  or  all  of  that  very  system  of  reality  of  which 
he  himself  is  a  part.  If  the  whole  constitution  of  the  whole 
universe  led,  by  the  clearest  development  of  its  essential 
nature,  to  our  universal  damnation  or  our  resolution  into 
aggregates  of  material  atoms,  the  complete  and  inevitable 
reality  of  these  results  would  not  give  even  the  first  step  towards 
proving  them  good. 

98.  But  although  the  supremely  real,  as  such,  is  not  the 
supremely  good,  we  may  admit,  I  think,  that  if  the  supreme 
reality  be  such  as  Hegel  has  described  it  to  be,  then  it  will 
coincide  with  the  supreme  good.  For,  in  the  reality  so  defined, 
every  conscious  being — and  there  are  no  other  beings — will 
express  all  his  individuality  in  one  end,  which  will  truly  and 
adequately  express  it.  The  fulfilment  of  such  an  end  as  this 
would  give  satisfaction,  not  partial  and  temporary,  but  complete 
and  eternal.  And  since  each  individual  finds  the  whole  uni- 
verse in  harmony  with  his  end,  it  will  necessarily  follow  that 
the  end  is  fulfilled.  Here  is  a  supreme  good  ready  to  our 
hands. 

99.  Hegel  has  thus  helped  us  to  the  conception  of  the 
supreme  good,  firstly  by  suggesting  it,  and  secondly  by  proving 
that  it  contains  no  contradictory  elements.  Such  a  supreme 
good,  we  notice,  is  not  purely  hedonistic.  It  contains  pleasure, 
no  doubt,  for  the  fulfilment  of  the  ends  of  conscious  beings  must 
always  involve  that.  But  the  pleasure  is  only  one  element  of 
the  perfect  state.  The  supreme  good  is  not  pleasure  as  such, 
but  this  particular  pleasant  state. 

100.  It  does  not  follow,  however,  that,  because  we  have 
determined  the  supreme  good,  we  have  therefore  determined 
the  criterion  of  morality.  They  can  be  identical,  no  doubt,  but 
they  need  not  be  so.  The  object  of  a  criterion  is  merely 
practical — to  guide  our  actions  towards  good.  For  this  purpose 
we  require  something  which  shall  be  a  sure  sign  of  the  good. 
But  a  thing  may  have  many  marks  besides  its  essence,  and  one 


THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION  97 

of  these  may  often  be  the  more  convenient  test.  A  stock  is  not 
made  safe  by  a  stock-broker's  beUef  in  it.  But  an  ordinary 
investor  will  find  the  opinion  of  a  good  stock-broker  a  much 
surer  test  of  the  safety  of  a  stock  than  could  be  furnished  by 
his  own  efforts  to  estimate  the  forces  which  will  be  the  real 
causes  of  safety  or  danger. 

We  must  remember,  also,  that  for  a  satisfactory  criterion  of 
morality  we  do  not  require  a  sure  test  of  all  good,  but  only 
a  sure  test  of  such  good  as  can  possibly  be  secured  by  our 
voluntary  efforts  to  secure  it.  If  we  find  a  criterion  which 
will  tell  us  this,  it  will  be  unnecessary  to  reject  it  because  it 
is  not  also  a  satisfactory  test  of  some  other  element  of  good, 
which  we  may  enjoy  when  we  get  it,  but  cannot  get  by  our 
own  action. 

101.  But  is  a  moral  criterion  wanted  at  all?  It  might  be 
maintained  that  it  was  not.  It  would  only  be  wanted,  it  might 
be  said,  if  we  decided  our  actions  by  general  rules,  which  we  do 
not.  Our  moral  action  depends  on  particular  judgments  that 
A  is  better  than  B,  which  we  recognize  with  comparative 
immediacy,  in  the  same  way  that  we  recognize  that  one  plate 
is  hotter  than  another,  or  one  picture  more  beautiful  than 
another.  It  is  on  these  particular  intuitive  judgments  of  valuer 
and  not  on  general  rules,  that  our  moral  action  is  based. 

This  seems  to  me  to  be  a  dangerous  exaggeration  of  an 
important  truth.  It  is  quite  true  that,  if  we  did  not  begin  with 
such  judgments,  we  should  have  neither  morality  nor  ethics. 
But  it  is  equally  true  that  we  should  have  neither  morality  nor 
ethics  if  we  stopped,  where  we  must  begin,  with  these  judg- 
ments, and  treated  them  as  decisive  and  closing  discussion. 
For  our  moral  judgments  are  hopelessly  contradictory  of  one 
another.  Of  two  intelligent  and  conscientious  men,  A  often 
judges  to  be  right  what  B  judges  to  be  wrong.  Or  ^,  at  forty, 
judges  that  to  be  wrong,  which  at  twenty  he  judged  to  be  right. 
Now  these  judgments  are  contradictory.  For  every  moral 
judgment  claims  to  be  objective,  and  demands  assent  from  all 
men.  If  A  asserts  that  he  likes  sugar  in  his  tea,  and  B  asserts 
that,  for  his  part,  he  does  not,  both  statements  may  be  true. 
But  if  A  asserts  that  to  be  right  which  B  asserts  to  be  wrong 

MCT.  7 


98  THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION 

one  of  them  must  be  in  error,  since  they  are  making  contrary 
statements  about  the  same  thing. 

It  is  therefore  impossible  to  treat  all  particular  judgments 
of  value  as  valid.  We  must  do  with  them  as  we  do  with  the 
particular  judgments  of  existence — that  is  to  say,  treat  them  as 
the  materials  in  which  truth  may  be  discovered,  but  not  as 
themselves  all  true.  We  must  reject  some,  and  accept  others. 
Now  I  do  not  see  how  this  is  to  be  done  except  by  discovering 
some  common  quality  which  the  vaHd  judgments,  and  they 
alone,  possess.  And,  if  we  test  the  particular  judgments  by 
means  of  this  quality  we  have  a  moral  criterion.  Even  if  we 
confine  ourselves  to  saying  that  the  judgments  of  the  best,  or 
of  the  wisest,  men  are  to  be  followed,  there  will  be  a  criterion. 
For  we  cannot  recognize  the  best,  or  the  wisest  in  ethical 
matters,  without  a  general  idea  of  the  good.  To  make  the 
recognition  itself  depend  on  one  of  the  particular  intuitive 
judgments  to  be  tested  would  be  a  vicious  circle. 

102.  A  criterion  is  therefore  necessary.  Before  considering 
its  nature,  we  must  consider  an  ambiguity  as  to  the  matter 
which  it  is  to  judge.  The  ethical  significance  of  the  content  of 
any  moment  of  time  is  double.  It  may  be  considered  in  itself. 
In  that  case  its  moral  significance  will  depend  on  the  closeness 
with  which  it  resembles  the  content  which  would  realise  the 
supreme  good.  Or  it  may  be  considered  as  a  means  towards 
a  future  end.  In  that  case  its  moral  significance  wiU  depend 
on  the  degree  in  which  it  tends  to  advance  or  to  retard  the 
eventual  complete  realisation  of  the  supreme  good. 

It  would  be  desirable,  no  doubt,  if  these  two  standards 
always  coincided — if  every  action  which  was  immediately  good 
hastened  the  coming  of  the  supreme  good,  and  every  action 
which  was  immediately  bad  retarded  it.  But  we  have  no 
reason  to  believe  that  this  is  so  in  any  particular  case,  and  we 
have  many  reasons  to  believe  that  it  is  not  so  always.  We 
know  that  good  often  comes  out  of  evil,  and  evil  out  of  good. 
This  is  a  matter  of  every-day  observation.  And  Hegel  has 
shown  us  that  good  never  comes,  except  out  of  conquered  evil, 
and  that  evil  must  arise  before  it  can  be  conquered^.    To  bring 

^  Cp.  chap.  \^. 


THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION  99 

GUI'  conduct  to-day  as  close  as  possible  to  the  supreme  good 
may  be  to  help  or  to  hinder  the  coming  of  the  supreme  good 
in  all  its  perfection. 

This  does  not,  however,  introduce  any  conflict  into  our 
moral  life.  For  of  the  two  possible  standards  by  which 
omniscience  might  judge  a  proposed  action  only  one  is  prac- 
ticable for  us.  We  can  see,  tO'  some  extent,  what  conduct 
embodies  the  supreme  good  least  imperfectly.  But  we  have  no 
material  whatever  for  deciding  what  conduct  will  tend  to  bring 
about  the  complete  realisation  of  the  supreme  good.  That  lies 
so  far  in  the  future,  and  involves  so  much  of  which  we  are 
completely  ignorant,  that  we  are  quite  unable  to  predict  the 
road  which  will  lead  to  it.  What  we  do  know,  if  we  follow 
Hegel,  is  this — that  the  road  we  do  take  will  lead  to  it,  because 
the  supreme  good  is  also  the  supreme  reality,  and  is  therefore 
the  inevitable  goal  of  all  temporal  process. 

It  follows  that  the  criterion  of  moral  action  which  we  require 
is  not  one  which  will  determine  what  actions  will  most  conduce 
to  the  eventual  establishment  of  absolute  perfection.  It  is  one 
which  will  tell  us  what  actions  will  bring  about,  immediately,  or 
in  the  comparatively  near  future  which  we  can  predict  with 
reasonable  certainty,  the  state  which  conforms  as  closely  as 
possible  to  that  perfection. 

The  points  I  wish  to  prove  in  this  chapter  are  (1)  that  the 
idea  of  perfection  cannot  give  us  any  criterion  of  moral  action ; 
(2)  that  the  hedonic  computation  of  pleasures  and  pains  does 
give  us  a  definite  criterion,  right  or  wrong;  (3)  that  the  use  of 
this  latter  criterion  is  not  incompatible  with  the  recognition 
of  perfection  as  the  supreme  good,  and  would  give  us,  if  not 
unerring  guidance,  still  guidance  less  erroneous  than  would  be 
afforded  by  any  other  applicable  criterion. 

103.  Let  us  consider  the  first  point.  When  two  courses 
are  presented  to  a  man  who  wishes  to  act  rightly,  and  he  is  in 
doubt  which  of  them  he  shall  adopt,  will  he  be  assisted  by 
reflecting  on  the  nature  of  the  supreme  reality,  which  we  have 
decided  to  be  also  the  supreme  good  ?  It  is  clear,  to  begin  with, 
that  if  either  of  the  courses  would  result  in  the  immediate 
reahsation  of  the  supreme  good,  it  would  be  the  course  to  take. 

7—2 


100  THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION 

But  it  is  equally  clear  that  this  cannot  ever  take  place,  in  the 
present  state  of  ourselves  and  our  experience.  The  reality- 
contemplated  by  Hegel  in  his  Absolute  Idea  is  absolutely 
spiritual,  absolutely  timeless,  absolutely  perfect.  Now  none  of 
us  ever  get  a  chance  of  performing  an  action  the  result  of  which 
would  satisfy  these  three  conditions.  The  result  of  any  actions 
possible  to  us  now  would  be  a  state  in  which  spirit  was  still 
encompassed  with  matter,  in  which  change  still  took  place,  and 
in  which  perfection,  if  rather  nearer  than  before,  was  still 
obviously  not  attained. 

It  is  useless  then  to  test  our  actions  by  enquiring  if  they 
will  realise  the  supreme  good.  None  of  them  will  do  that, 
and  we  are  reduced  to  considering  which  of  them  will  enable 
us  to  reach  rather  nearer  to  supreme  good  than  we  were 
before. 

104.  This  question  has  not,  I  think,  been  faced  quite  fairly 
by  the  school  who  assert  the  idea  of  perfection  to  be  an  adequate 
criterion.  They  generally  take  a  case  in  which  some  form  of 
the  desire  for  good  as  good — some  form  of  specifically  moral 
feeling — is  opposed  to  something  desired  regardless  of,  or  in 
opposition  to,  morality.  They  have  then  comparatively  little 
difficulty  in  asserting,  with  some  probability,  that  the  idea  of 
perfection  would  be  a  sufficient  guide  to  direct  us  to  the  first 
rather  than  to  the  second.  For  perfection  clearly  includes  a 
positing  of  the  supreme  good  by  each  person  as  his  end ;  and 
this  positing  would  only  differ  from  desire  in  excluding  all 
thought  of  the  possibility  of  non-fulfilment.  Surely,  then,  the 
good  will  must  raise  any  state,  of  which  it  is  a  moment,  above 
all  other  states  which  do  not  participate  in  it. 

But  even  if  this  criterion  is  true,  it  is  almost  always  useless. 
It  is  of  some  use  if  there  is  a  question  of  another  will  besides 
that  of  the  agent.  For  then  there  would  be  some  meaning  in 
saying  that  ^'s  duty  to  B  was  to  endeavour  to  make  B  do  that 
which  B  himself  thought  morally  right.  Here  the  will  to  be 
made  good  is  not  the  agent's  own  will,  and  so  there  is  no 
tautology. 

But  we  have  other  duties  besides  our  duty  to  influence  the 
wills  of  our  neighbours.    And  the  attempt  to  use  the  criterion 


THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION  101 

more  generally,  by  applying  it  to  the  agent's  will,  breaks  down. 
If  A  demands  which  of  two  courses  the  ideal  of  perfection  pre- 
scribes for  him  here  and  now,  all  the  reply  that  can  be  made  is 
that  it  will  be  best  for  him  to  take  the  course  which  he  takes 
believing  it  to  be  the  best.  Now  he  certainly  will  take  the 
course  which  he  believes  to  be  morally  the  best.  For,  if  not,  he 
would  not  have  sought  guidance  in  an  ethical  criterion.  Such 
a  criterion  can  never  give  a  reason  why  the  morally  good  should 
be  desired.  All  it  can  do  is  to  tell  us  what  things  are  morally 
good. 

If  A  has  not  decided  to  act  morally,  the  criterion  will  be 
inefEective,  for,  if  he  has  not  decided  to  act  rightly,  why  should 
he  refrain  from  an  action  because  it  is  wrong  ?  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  he  has  decided  to  act  morally,  and  appeals  to  the  criterion 
to  tell  him  what  course  he  should  take,  it  is  clear  that  each 
course  claims  to  be  the  morally  right  one,  and  he  is  undecided. 
In  that  case  to  tell  him  that  he  wiU  be  right,  if  he  pursues  the 
course  which  he  judges  to  be  right,  is  to  tell  him  nothing,  for 
what  he  wants  is  to  be  helped  in  judging  which  of  them  is 
right. 

105.  The  practical  use  of  ethics — and  it  is  this  we  are 
considering — can  only  occur,  then,  when  a  man  has  resolved  to 
act  in  conformity  with  duty,  and  is  not  certain  what  course  duty 
prescribes.  Two  courses  of  action  may  each  be  in  itself  morally 
desirable,  and  may  be  incompatible,  so  that  we  are  in  doubt 
which  to  pursue. 

Two  courses  of  conduct,  let  us  suppose,  are  presented  to  us. 
By  taking  a  we  shall  further  the  end  a,  by  taking  b  the  end  ^. 
Both  a  and  ^  are  good,  but  a  and  b  are  incompatible.  Can  the 
principle  of  perfection  tell  us  whether  a  or  /S  is,  under  the 
circumstances,  to  be  preferred?  It  seems  to  me  that  it  is  im- 
possible in  most  cases,  if  not  in  all.  It  is  clear  that  neither  a  nor 
^  can  be  expected  to  be  realised  unchanged  in  the  supreme 
good.  For  any  end  which  can  be  attained  by  an  action  in  our 
present  state  would  still  be  an  element  in  an  imperfect  and 
incomplete  world,  would  still  be  tainted  with  imperfection,  and 
could  not  therefore,  as  such,  form  part  of  absolute  perfection. 
On  the  other  hand  every  end  which  a  man  could  represent  to 


102  THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION 

himself  as  a  moral  ideal  has  some  real  good  in  it.  It  would 
therefore  form  an  element,  however  transcended  and  altered,  of 
the  supreme  good.  Thus  we  should  only  be  able  to  say,  of  both 
a  and  ^,  that  they  were  imperfect  goods.  Which  is  the  least 
imperfect?  That  could  only  be  settled  by  comparing  each  of 
them  with  the  supreme  good — a  comparison  which  it  is  scarcely 
ever  possible  to  carry  out  so  as  to  assign  a  preference  to  either 
alternative. 

106.  Let  us  take  an  example.  Most  people  think  that 
the  institution  of  marriage,  as  it  at  present  exists  in  civilized 
countries,  is  on  the  whole  a  good  thing.  But  others  think  it 
a  mistake.  They  hold  that  all  unions  between  man  and  woman 
should  be  terminable  at  any  moment  by  the  simple  desire  of 
the  parties,  who  should  then  each  of  them  be  free  to  form  a 
fresh  union.  And  this  they  put  forward  as  a  moral  advance. 
Can  the  contemplation  of  the  supreme  good  help  us  to  decide 
this  question?  It  is  clear,  at  any  rate,  that  we  cannot  solve 
the  difficulty  by  simply  copying  the  pattern  which  the  supreme 
good  lays  down  for  us.  For  there  the  difficulty  could  not  arise 
at  all.  In  a  world  of  pure  spirit  there  could  be  no  sexual 
desire,  and  in  a  world  which  was  timeless  there  could  be  no 
propagation  of  children — two  elements  which  have  considerable 
importance  when  we  are  dealing  with  marriage.  And  in  such 
a  state  all  relations  would  be  permanent  together,  so  that  the 
question  could  never  be  raised  whether  outside  relations  ought 
to  change  in  harmony  with  internal  changes. 

Whichever  course  we  take,  therefore,  we  shall  not  be  able 
to  model  ourselves  completely  on  the  supreme  good.  Which 
course  wiU  lead  us  to  the  result  least  removed  from  the 
supreme  good?  We  find  ourselves  in  a  hopeless  antinomy — 
hopeless,  not  from  the  actual  want  of  a  solution,  but  because 
the  solution  requires  a  knowledge  of  detail  far  beyond  our 
power. 

The  conservative  side  may  assert,  and  with  perfect  truth, 
that  in  perfection  all  relations  are  absolutely  constant.  But 
if  they  infer  from  this  that  a  minimum  of  change  in  the 
relationships  between  particular  men  and  particular  women 
is  most  consonant  to  the  supreme  good,  the  innovators  may 


THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION     103 

reply,  with  equal  truth,  that  in  perfection  all  relations  will 
be  the  free  expression  of  the  inner  nature  of  the  individual, 
and  draw  from  this — with  equal  right — the  contrary  conclusion 
— that  every  relation  between  a  man  and  a  woman  should  cease 
with  the  cessation  of  the  feelings  which  led  them  into  it.  If 
it  is  answered  to  this — as  it  certainly  may  be — that  true 
freedom,  as  we  find  it  in  perfection,  is  not  capricious  but 
manifests  itself  in  objective  uniformities,  it  may  with  equal 
force  be  retorted  that  true  constancy  does  not  lie  in  clinging 
to  external  arrangements  which  have  become  unfit  expressions 
of  the  internal  nature  of  the  persons  concerned,  but  in  the 
continuous  readjustment  of  the  external  to  the  developing  nature 
of  the  internal.  If  there  is  a  rejoinder  that  true  development 
does  not  consist  in  yielding  to  caprice,  there  may  be  a  rebutter 
that  true  order  does  not  lie  in  blindly  accepting  experience, 
but  in  moulding  it.  And  so  on,  and  so  on,  until  the  stock 
of  edifying  truths  runs  out,  if  it  ever  does.  We  can  never 
get  forward.  One  side  can  always  prove  that  there  is  some 
good  in  a,  and  some  imperfection  in  ^.  The  other  side  can 
prove  the  converse  propositions.  But  to  know  which  is  best, 
we  should  have  to  discover  whether  we  should  be  nearer  to 
perfection  if  at  the  present  moment  we  emphasised  freedom, 
even  at  the  price  of  caprice,  or  emphasised  order,  even  at  the 
price  of  constraint.   And  how  are  we  to  discover  this  ? 

And  yet  the  particular  problem  we  have  been  discussing 
is  one  on  which  most  people  in  the  world,  and  most  of  the 
independent  thinkers  of  the  world,  have  come  to  the  same 
conclusion.  But  that,  I  fancy,  is  because  they  take  a  more 
practical  criterion.  If  we  estimate  the  gain  or  loss  of  happiness 
which  would  follow  from  the  abolition  of  marriage,  we  may 
perhaps  find  excellent  reasons  for  declining  to  make  the  change. 
But  we  shall  not  have  been  helped  in  our  decision  by  the  idea 
of  the  supreme  good. 

Innumerable  similar  cases  could  be  found.  Public  schools 
knock  a  great  deal  of  pretence  out  of  boys,  and  knock  a  certain 
amount  of  Philistinism  into  them.  In  heaven  we  shall  be 
neither  shams  or  Philistines.  But  are  we  nearer  to  heaven, 
if  at  this  moment  we  buy  genuineness  with  PhiKstinism,  or 


104  THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION 

buy  culture  with  Schwdrmerei  ?     The  man  who  answers  that 
question  would  need  to  be  deep  in  the  secrets  of  the  universe. 

107.  But  although  the  supreme  good  is  useless  as  a  help 
in  a  real  investigation  of  an  ethical  question,  it  is  a  dangerously 
eflBcient  ally  in  a  barren  and  unfair  polemic.  For  a  is  always 
partly  good,  ^  never  quite  good.  Ignore  the  corresponding 
propositions,  that  ^  is  also  good,  and  a  also  imperfect,  and 
we  have  an  admirable  argument  for  anything.  For  this 
purpose  the  words  "true"  and  "higher"  are  useful.  Thus 
the  opponent  of  marriage,  if  confronted  with  the  goodness  of 
order,  may  reply  that  the  true,  or  the  higher,  order  is  freedom. 
But  then  the  supporter  of  marriage  may  enter  on  the  same 
sophistry,  by  representing  that  the  true,  or  the  higher,  freedom 
is  order.  Both  propositions  are  quite  true.  In  the  supreme 
good,  order  and  freedom  are  so  transcended,  that  they  are 
compatible — indeed,  identical.  It  is  true  that  the  perfect 
forms  of  each  are  identical,  and  that  the  perfect  form  of 
either  would  always  include  and  surpass  the  other's  imperfect 
form.  The  sophistry  lies  in  making  this  the  ground  for  pre- 
ferring the  imperfect  form  of  the  one  to  the  imperfect  form 
of  the  other.  When  we  consider  how  short  and  simple  such 
a  device  is,  as  compared  with  a  laborious  empirical  calculation 
of  consequences,  and  that  it  can  be  appUed  on  any  side  of 
any  dispute,  we  may  expect  that  it  will  in  the  future  furnish 
as  convenient  a  shelter  for  prejudices  and  indolence  as  innate 
moral  ideas,  or  the  healthy  instincts  of  the  human  mind. 

108.  Another  class  of  difficulties  occurs  in  which  the  ends 
are  not  in  themselves  incompatible,  but  in  which  the  in- 
adequacy of  the  means  renders  it  necessary  to  sacrifice  one — at 
any  rate  partially.  We  have  continually  to  divide  our  energy, 
our  time,  and  our  money,  between  several  objects,  each  of  which 
has  admittedly  a  claim  to  some,  and  which  could  absorb  between 
them,  with  good  results,  more  than  the  total  amount  we  have 
to  divide.  Ethical  problems  arise  here  to  which  the  answers 
must  be  quantitative,  and  I  fail  to  see  what  hope  there  is  of 
settling  them  by  means  of  the  idea  of  the  supreme  good. 

A  man  with  some  leisure  may  admit — and  will  generally  be 
wise  if  he  does — that  he  should  devote  some  of  it  to  work  of 


THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION     105 

public  utility,  and  some  to  direct  self-improvement.  But  how 
much  to  each  ?  He  could  very  probably  use  all  his  leisure  for 
either  purpose  with  good  results.  At  any  rate,  he  will — in  the 
great  majority  of  cases — often  find  an  hour  which  he  could  use 
for  either.  Which  shall  he  sacrifice?  Shall  he  attend  a  com- 
mittee meeting,  or  spend  the  evening  studying  metaphysics? 
These  difiiculties  come  to  all  of  us.  The  contemplation  of  the 
supreme  good  will  tell  us,  it  may  be  granted,  that  both  meta- 
physics and  social  work  have  an  element  of  good  in  them.  But 
our  contemplation  cannot  tell  us  which  to  prefer  to  the  other,  for 
the  supreme  good  chooses  neither,  but,  transcending  both,  enjoys 
both  in  their  full  perfection  simultaneously,  which  is  just  what, 
in  the  present  imperfect  state  of  things,  we  cannot  do.  And  it 
is  no  good  telUng  us  to  neglect  neither,  or  to  make  a  division  of 
our  time.  For  a  division  cannot  be  made  in  the  abstract.  We 
must  make  it  at  a  particular  point,  and  assign  the  marginal 
hour  of  which  we  have  been  speaking  either  to  philanthropy  or 
to  metaphysics. 

The  distribution  of  wealth  presents  us  continually  with 
similar  questions.  A  man  with  a  thousand  a  year  would 
probably  feel  that  he  ought  to  give  something  to  relieve  distress, 
and  also  to  give  his  children  a  better  education  than  the  average 
child  gets  at  present.  But  this  abstract  conviction  will  not 
divide  his  income  for  him.  Shall  he  send  his  sons  to  a  second- 
rate  school,  and  pension  his  old  nurse,  or  shall  he  send  them  to 
a  fii'st-rate  school,  and  let  her  go  to  the  workhouse  ?  Problems 
like  these  are  the  real  ethical  difficulties  of  life,  and  they  are 
not  to  be  solved  by  generalities — nor  even  by  contemplating  the 
idea  of  the  supreme  good,  in  which  there  are  neither  school-bills 
nor  workhouses,  and  whose  perfections  are  in  consequence  irrele- 
vant to  the  situation. 

109.  It  may  be  said  that  it  is  not  within  the  province  of 
ethics  to  deal  with  individual  cases  such  as  this.  And  in  one 
sense  this  is  true.  A  system  of  ethics  is  not  bound  to  lay  down 
beforehand  the  precise  action  a  man  ought  to  take  in  every  con- 
ceivable contingency.  This  would,  to  begin  with,  be  impossible, 
owing  to  the  number  of  possible  contingencies.  And,  even  if 
possible,  it  would  be  undesirable.    In  applying  rules  to  a  given 


106    THE  SUPRIEME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITEBION 

set  of  circumstances  we  require  not  so  much  philosophical 
insight  as  common  sense  and  special  knowledge  of  those  circum- 
stances. The  philosopher  is  not  likely,  perhaps,  to  have  more 
common  sense  than  the  man  whose  action  is  being  considered. 
And  the  latter  is  much  more  likely  to  understand  his  own 
circumstances  for  himself  than  the  philosopher  is  to  understand 
them  for  him.  The  particular  problems  of  conduct,  therefore, 
are  best  solved  at  the  place  and  time  when  they  actually  occur. 
But  it  is,  none  the  less,  the  duty  of  ethics  to  provide  the 
general  principles  upon  which  any  doubtful  point  of  conduct 
ought  to  be  settled.  It  would  plainly  be  absurd  to  assert  that 
any  one  distribution  of  our  time  and  wealth  among  good  objects 
would  be  as  good  as  any  other  distribution.  It  would  be  still 
more  absurd  to  assert  that  a  man  who  desired  to  act  rightly 
would  not  care  whether  he  made  the  best  possible  distribution. 
Surely  the  only  alternative  is  to  look  to  ethics  for  the  principle 
on  which  we  must  make  the  distribution.  And  it  is  just  this 
in  which  the  idea  of  the  supreme  good  fails  to  help  us. 

110.  It  has  been  suggested  that  a  suitable  formula  for 
ethics  may  be  found  in  "my  station  and  its  duties."  Each  of 
us  finds  himself  in  a  particular  place  in  the  world.  The  par- 
ticular characteristics  of  the  situation  suggest  certain  duties. 
Do  these,  and  in  this  way  the  supreme  good  will  be  most 
advantaged. 

As  an  analysis  of  morality  this  theory  has  many  recommen- 
dations, and  it  was  not,  if  I  understand  rightly,  originally  put 
forward  as  a  moral  criterion.  But,  for  the  sake  of  completeness, 
it  will  be  well  to  point  out  that  it  is  not  available  as  a  criterion. 
In  the  first  place,  it  fails  to  tell  us  how  we  are  to  judge  those 
persons  who  have  endeavoured  to  advance  the  good  by  going 
beyond,  or  contrary  to,  the  duties  of  the  station  in  which  they 
then  were,  and  so  transforming  their  society  and  their  own 
station  in  it.  The  number  of  these  may  be  comparatively  small. 
But  the  effect  of  their  action  is  so  important  for  everyone  that 
it  is  essential  for  a  moral  criterion  to  be  able  to  determine 
when  such  innovations  should  be  accepted  and  when  rejected. 

These  cases  can  be  brought  within  the  scope  of  the  formula, 
if  it  is  only  taken  as  an  analysis  of  morality.    For  there  is  no 


THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION     107 

contradiction  in  saying  that  my  duty  in  a  certain  station — e.g. 
that  of  a  slave-holder,  or  of  a  slave — may  be  to  destroy  that 
station.  But  such  cases  are  clearly  fatal  to  any  attempt  to  use 
the  formula  as  a  criterion.  Some  fresh  criterion  would  be 
wanted  to  tell  me  whether  my  duty  in  my  station  did  or  did 
not  involve  an  attempt  to  fundamentally  alter  its  nature. 

Again,  even  in  the  ordinary  routine. of  life,  such  a  principle 
would  give  but  little  real  guidance.  It  lays  down,  indeed,  the 
wide  boundaries  within  which  I  must  act,  but  it  does  not  say 
precisely  how  I  shall  act  within  these  boundaries,  and  so  leaves 
a  vast  mass  of  true  ethical  questions  unsettled.  My  station  may 
include  among  its  duties  that  I  should  seek  a  seat  in  parlia- 
ment. If  I  get  one,  my  station  will  demand  that  I  should  vote 
for  some  bills  and  against  others.  But  which  ?  Shall  I  vote  for 
or  against  a  Sunday  Closing  bill,  for  example  ?  Such  questions 
can  in  the  long  run  only  be  answered  by  reference  to  an  ethical 
ideal.  And  the  ideal  of  my  station  and  its  duties  will  not  help 
us.  For  while  the  ideal  M.P.  will  certainly  vote  for  the  bills  he 
thinks  ought  to  pass,  and  against  those  he  thinks  ought  not  to 
pass,  there  is  nothing  in  the  conception  of  a  perfect  member  of 
parliament  which  can  tell  us  in  which  of  these  classes  he  will 
place  a  Sunday  Closing  bill. 

Or  my  station  may  be  that  of  a  schoolmaster.  This  defines 
my  duties  within  certain  limits.  But  it  cannot  tell  me  whether 
in  a  particular  case  it  is  worth  while  to  make  a  boy  obedient  at 
the  cost  of  making  him  sulky. 

Thus  the  principle,  if  taken  as  a  criterion,  is  not  only 
inadequate,  but  it  proclaims  its  own  inadequacy.  For  the  duty 
of  an  M.P.  or  a  schoolmaster  is  not  only  to  vote  on  bills,  or  to 
act  on  boys,  regardless  of  the  manner,  but  to  vote  rightly  on 
bills,  or  to  act  rightly  on  boys.  And,  since  the  right  way  in 
each  particular  case  can  never  be  got  out  of  the  mere  idea  of  the 
station,  the  formula  itself  shows  that  some  other  criterion  is 
needed  for  the  adequate  guidance  of  our  action. 

111.  I  now  proceed  to  the  next  branch  of  my  subject — 
namely  that  the  calculation  of  pleasures  and  pains  does  give  a 
definite  criterion  of  action.  (Calculation  is,  I  think,  a  better 
word  than  calcub^s,  which,  as  a  technical  term  of  mathematics, 


108  THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION 

seems  to  imply  a  precision  unattainable,  on  any  theory,  in 
ethics.)  I  am  not  now  maintaining  that  it  is  a  correct  criterion 
— that  it  will  enable  us  to  distinguish  right  from  wrong,  but 
merely  that  it  is  sufficiently  definite  to  be  applied  to  actions  in 
an  intelligible  way.  The  question  of  its  correctness  from  an 
ethical  point  of  view  must  be  postponed  for  the  present. 

112.  The  elements  at  any  rate  of  such  a  calculation  are 
clear.  We  do  know  what  a  pleasure  is,  and  what  a  pain  is,  and 
we  can  distinguish  a  greater  pleasure  or  pain  from  a  lesser  one. 
I  do  not  mean,  of  course,  that  the  distinction  is  always  easy  to 
make  in  practice.  There  are  some  states  of  consciousness  of 
which  we  can  hardly  tell  whether  they  give  us  pleasure  or 
pain.  And  there  are  many  cases  in  which  we  should  find  it 
impossible  to  decide  which  of  two  pleasures,  or  of  two  pains, 
was  the  greater. 

This,  however,  while  it  no  doubt  introduces  some  un- 
certainty into  our  calculations,  does  not  entirely  vitiate  them. 
For  when  we  can  see  no  difference,  as  to  amount  of  pleasure  or 
pain  between  two  mental  states,  we  may  safely  conclude  that 
the  difference  existing  is  smaller  than  any  perceptible  one. 
And,  in  the  same  way,  if  we  are  unable  to  tell  whether  a 
particular  state  is  more  pleasurable  than  painful,  we  may  safely 
conclude  that  the  excess  of  one  feeling  over  the  other  must  be 
small.  Thus  the  margin  of  vagueness  which  is  left  is  itself 
limited.  This  is  quite  different  from  the  far  more  dangerous 
vagueness  which  we  found  in  considering  perfection.  When  we 
were  unable  to  tell  whether  the  maintenance  or  the  abolition 
of  marriage  would  bring  us  nearer  to  the  supreme  good,  this 
uncertainty  by  no  means  gave  us  the  right  to  infer  that  it 
made  little  difference  which  happened.  The  choice  might 
make  a  very  great  difference.  The  uncertainty  came  from 
our  ignorance,  and  not  from  the  close  equality  of  the  two 
alternatives.  But  if  we  are  doubtful  whether  a  plate  of  turtle 
soup  or  a  bunch  of  asparagus  would  give  us  more  pleasure,  or 
whether  the  pleasure  of  a  long  walk  outweighs  the  pain  of  it, 
we  may  at  least  be  certain  that  we  shall  not  lose  very  much 
pleasure,  whichever  alternative  we  finally  select. 

113.  It   has   been    objected   to   hedonistic   systems   that 


THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION     109 

pleasure  is  a  mere  abstraction,  that  no  one  could  experience 
pleasure  as  such,  but  only  this  or  that  species  of  pleasure,  and 
that  therefore  pleasure  is  an  impossible  criterion.  It  is  true 
that  we  experience  only  particular  pleasant  states  which  are 
partially  heterogeneous  with  one  another.  But  this  is  no  reason 
why  we  should  be  unable  to  classify  them  by  the  amount  of  a 
particular  abstract  element  which  is  in  all  of  them.  No  ship 
contains  abstract  wealth  as  a  cargo.  Some  have  tea,  some  have 
butter,  some  have  machinery.  But  we  are  quite  justified  in 
arranging  those  ships,  should  we  find  it  convenient,  in  an  order 
determined  by  the  extent  to  which  their  concrete  cargoes 
possess  the  abstract  attribute  of  being  exchangeable  for  a 
number  of  sovereigns. 

114.  Another  objection  which  is  often  made  to  hedonism 
lies  in  the  fact  that  pleasures  vanish  in  the  act  of  enjoyment, 
and  that  to  keep  up  any  good  that  might  be  based  on  pleasure, 
there  must  be  a  continuous  series  of  fresh  pleasures.  This 
is  directed  against  the  possibility  of  a  sum  of  pleasures  being 
the  supreme  good.  As  we  are  here  only  looking  for  a  criterion, 
we  might  pass  it  by.  But  it  may  be  well  to  remark  in  passing 
that  it  seems  unfounded.  For  so  long  as  we  exist  in  time,  the 
supreme  good,  whatever  it  is — perfection,  self-realisation,  the 
good  will — will  have  to  manifest  itself  in  a  series  of  states 
of  consciousness.  It  will  never  be  fulfilled  at  any  one  moment. 
If  it  be  said  that  all  these  states  have  the  common  element 
of  perfection  or  the  good  will  running  through  them,  the 
hedonist  might  reply  that  in  his  ideal  condition  all  the  states 
of  consciousness  will  have  the  common  element  of  pleasure 
running  through  them.  Pleasure,  it  may  be  objected,  is  a  mere 
abstraction.  Certainly  it  is,  and  the  element  of  a  pure  identity 
which  runs  through  a  dift'erentiated  whole  must  always  be  to 
some  extent  an  abstraction,  because  it  abstracts  from  the 
differentiation.  In  the  same  way,  perfection  or  good  will,  if 
conceived  as  timeless  elements  of  a  consciousness  existing 
in  time,  are  just  as  much  abstract,  since  abstraction  is  thus 
made  of  the  circumstances  under  which  alone  they  can  be 
conceived  as  real  and  concrete. 

So  long,  therefore,  as  our  consciousness  is  in  time,  it  can  be 


110    THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION 

no  reason  of  special  reproach  to  pleasure  that  it  can  only  be 
realised  in  a  continuous  succession.  And  if  our  consciousness 
should  ever  free  itself  of  the  form  of  succession,  there  is  no 
reason  why  pleasure  should  not  be  realised,  like  all  the  other 
elements  of  consciousness,  in  an  eternal  form.  Indeed  pleasure 
seems  better  adapted  for  the  transition  than  the  other  elements 
of  consciousness.  A  timeless  feeling  is  no  doubt  an  obscure 
conception.  But  we  can,  I  think,  form  a  better  idea  of  what  is 
meant  by  it  than  we  can  of  the  meaning  of  timeless  cognition 
or  of  timeless  volition. 

115.  We  now  come,  however,  to  a  more  serious  difficulty. 
Hedonic  calculations  require,  not  only  that  we  should  compare 
the  magnitudes  of  pleasures,  but  that  we  should  add  and 
subtract  them.  The  actions  which  we  propose  to  ourselves 
will  not  each  result  in  a  single  pleasure  or  pain.  Each  will 
have  a  variety  of  results,  and,  as  a  rule,  some  of  them  will 
be  pleasures,  and  some  pains.  To  compare  two  projected 
actions,  therefore,  it  will  be  necessary  in  each  case  to  take 
the  sum  of  the  pleasures,  subtract  from  it  the  sum  of  the 
pains,  and  then  enquire  which  of  the  two  remainders  is  the 
larger  positive,  or  the  smaller  negative,  quantity. 

Now  pleasures  and  pains  are  intensive,  not  extensive, 
quantities.  And  it  is  sometimes  argued  that  this  renders  it 
impossible  for  them  to  be  added  or  subtracted.  The  difierence 
between  two  pleasures  or  two  temperatures  is  not  itself,  it  is 
said,  pleasant  or  hot.  The  possibility  of  adding  or  subtracting 
intensive  quantities  depends,  it  is  maintained,  on  the  fact  that 
the  difference  between  two  of  them  is  a  third  quantity  of  the 
same  kind — -that  the  difierence  between  two  lengths  is  itself 
a  length,  and  the  difference  between  two  durations  is  itself  a 
duration.  And,  since  this  characteristic  is  wanting  in  intensive 
quantities,  it  is  concluded  that  it  is  impossible  to  deal  with 
them  arithmetically. 

The  question  is  one  of  great  importance,  and  the  answer 
affects  more  than  the  hedonic  criterion  of  moral  action.  It 
will,  I  believe,  be  found  on  further  consideration  that,  reasonably 
or  unreasonably,  we  are  continually  making  calculations  of 
pleasures  and  pains,  that  they  have  an  indispensable  place 


THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION  111 

in  every  system  of  morality,  and  that  any  system  which 
substitutes  perfection  for  pleasure  as  a  criterion  of  moral 
action  also  involves  the  addition  and  subtraction  of  other 
intensive  quantities.  If  such  a  process  is  unjustifiable,  it  is  not 
hedonism  only,  but  all  ethics,  which  will  become  unmeaning. 

116.  Introspection,  I  think,  will  convince  us  that  we  are 
continually  adding  and  subtracting  pleasures  and  pains,  or 
imagining  that  we  do  so,  and  acting  on  what  we  suppose  to 
be  the  result  of  our  calculations.  Whether  we  do  it  as  a 
moral  criterion  or  not,  we  are  continually  doing  it  in  cases 
in  which  we  do  not  bring  morality  into  the  matter.  Suppose 
a  man  to  be  presented  with  two  bills  of  fare  for  two  equally 
expensive  and  equally  wholesome  dinners,  and  to  be  invited 
to  choose  which  he  shall  take.  Few  of  us,  I  fancy,  would 
either  find  ourselves  unable  to  decide  the  question,  or  admit 
that  our  answer  was  purely  capricious  and  unmeaning.  Yet 
how  can  such  an  answer  be  given  except  by  adding  pleasures? 
Even  the  most  artistic  composition  can  scarcely  give  such  unity 
to  a  dinner  as  to  admit  of  the  pleasures  we  derive  from  it 
being  regarded  as  anything  but  a  succession  of  pleasures  from 
each  dish — not  to  say  each  mouthful.  And,  if  we  still  prefer 
one  dinner  to  the  other,  does  not  this  involve  the  addition  of 
pleasures  ? 

Such  cases  make  up  a  great  part  of  our  lives.  For  even 
when  distinctively  moral  considerations  come  in,  they  very 
often  leave  us  a  choice  of  equivalent  means,  which  can  be 
settled  only  by  our  own  pleasure.  My  duty  may  demand 
that  I  shall  be  at  my  office  at  a  certain  hour,  but  it  is  only 
my  pleasure  which  can  give  me  a  motive  for  walking  there 
on  one  side  of  the  street  rather  than  on  the  other.  My  duty 
may  demand  that  I  shall  read  a  certain  book,  but  there  may 
be  no  motive  but  pleasure  to  settle  whether  I  shall  use  a  light 
copy  with  bad  print,  or  a  heavy  copy  with  good  print.  And 
almost  all  such  decisions,  if  made  with  any  meaning  at  all, 
require  that  pleasures  and  pains  should  be  added  and  sub- 
tracted. It  is  only  in  this  way  that  we  can  decide,  whenever 
several  pleasures  and  pains  of  each  course  have  to  be  taken 
into  consideration,  and  whenever  a  pleasure  has  to  be  balanced 


112     THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION 

against  a  pain.  Moreover,  even  if  a  single  pleasure  or  pain 
from  one  has  to  be  balanced  against  a  single  pleasure  or 
pain  from  another,  we  still  require  addition  if  each  of  these 
feelings  is  to  be  looked  on  as  an  aggregate  of  several  smaller 
ones.  And  they  must  be  looked  at  in  that  way,  at  any  rate, 
in  the  very  common  case  in  which  the  greater  keenness  of  one 
feeling  is  balanced  against  the  greater  length  of  the  other. 

117.  This  calculation  of  pleasures  is  not  only  requisite 
for  life,  but  it  fills  an  indispensable,  though  subordinate,  place 
in  even  non-hedonist  morality.  If,  with  two  courses  a  and  h 
before  me,  I  can  find  no  perceptible  difference  either  to  the 
welfare  of  others,  or  to  my  own  perfection,  while  at  the  same 
time  a  is  pleasanter  than  6,  is  it  morally  indifferent  which 
course  I  shall  take  ?  Surely  it  cannot  be  held  to  be  indifferent, 
miless  we  deny  that  pleasure  is  better  than  pain — an  outrage 
on  common  sense  of  which  the  great  majority  of  non-hedonist 
moralists  cannot  be  accused.  If  pleasure  is  better  than  pain, 
then,  caeteris  'paribus,  it  is  our  duty  to  choose  it — a  duty  which 
may  not  require  very  constant  preaching,  but  the  neglect  of 
which  is  none  the  less  morally  evil. 

But,  even  if  we  leave  this  out,  it  can  scarcely  be  denied 
that  there  are  cases  when  it  is  our  duty  to  give  pleasure, 
simply  as  pleasure,  to  others.  Even  Kant  admits  this.  And 
if  we  have  to  do  this  we  must  either  confess  our  actions  to 
be  utterly  absurd,  or  else  base  them  on  a  calculation  of 
pleasures.  Whenever  either  course  produces  a  succession  of 
pleasures  or  pains,  whenever  pleasures  and  pains  have  to  be 
balanced  against  one  another,  whenever  the  intensity  of  one 
feeling  has  to  be  balanced  against  the  length  of  another,  or 
the  intensity  of  one  man's  feeling  against  a  plurality  of  weaker 
feelings  in  many  men — in  all  these  cases  we  must  either  add 
pleasures  and  pains,  or  work  absolutely  in  the  dark. 

118.  I  have,  I  think,  said  enough  to  show  that  the  rejection 
of  all  calculations  about  pleasure  is  not  a  simple  question,  and 
that  it  would  necessarily  lead  to  a  good  deal  of  doubt — almost 
amounting  to  positive  denial — of  the  possibility  of  our  acting 
rationally  at  all.  But  we  may  carry  this  line  of  argument 
further.    The  only  reason  which  we  have  found  for  doubting 


THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION     113 

the  legitimacy  of  such  calculations  is  that  they  involved  the 
addition  of  intensive  quantities.  Now  if  it  should  be  the 
case  that  the  opposed  theory  of  ethics,  which  would  have  us 
take  perfection  as  a  criterion,  also  requires  the  addition  of 
intensive  quantities,  we  should  have  got,  at  the  least,  an 
effective  argument  ad  hominem  against  our  chief  opponents. 

We  should,  however,  have  got  more  than  this.  For  every 
ethical  theory  accepts  either  perfection  or  pleasure  as  a  criterion, 
except  the  theory  which  holds  that  the  good  is  shown  us  by 
immediate  intuitive  judgments,  which,  as  we  have  seen  above ^, 
rejects  all  criteria  whatever.  Even  that  other  form  of  In- 
tuitionism,  which  maintains  that  we  are  immediately  conscious 
of  the  validity  of  certain  general  moral  laws,  requires  one  or 
both  of  these  criteria.  For  some  of  the  moral  laws  are  always 
represented  as  laws  of  imperfect  obligation.  We  are  to  be  as 
good  as  possible,  or  to  do  as  much  good  as  possible.  And  such 
laws  always  involve  either  perfection  or  pleasure  as  a  standard. 

The  only  criteria  offered  are  perfection  and  pleasure. 
Pleasure  as  a  criterion  admittedly  involves  the  addition  of 
intensive  quantities.  If  perfection  as  a  criterion  does  the  same, 
we  shall  be  reduced  to  a  dilemma.  Either  we  must  find  room 
within  ethics  for  the  addition  of  intensive  quantities,  or  we 
must  surrender  all  hope  of  directing  our  conduct  by  an  ethical 
principle. 

119.  Is  it  then  the  case  that  the  criterion  of  perfection 
does  require  the  addition  of  intensive  quantities?  I  do  not  see 
how  this  can  be  avoided.  Absolute  perfection — the  supreme 
good — is  not  quantitative.  But  we  shall  not  reach  absolute 
perfection  by  any  action  which  we  shall  have  a  chance  of  taking 
to-day  or  to-morrow.  And  of  the  degrees  of  perfection  it  is 
impossible  to  speak  except  quantitatively.  If  we  can  say — 
and  we  must  be  able  to  say  something  of  the  sort,  if  perfection 
is  to  be  our  criterion — that  a  man  who  stays  away  from  the 
poll  acts  more  perfectly  than  a  man  who  votes  against  his 
conscience  for  a  bribe,  and  that  a  man  who  votes  according 
to  his  conscience  acts  more  perfectly  than  one  who  stays  away 
— then  we  are  either  talking  about  quantities  or  about  nothing. 

1  Section  101. 

MCT.  8 


114  THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION 

And  these  quantities  are  clearly  intensive.  The  difference 
between  one  perfection  and  another  cannot  be  a  third  perfection. 

The  incomplete  stages  of  perfection,  which,  on  this  theory, 
must  be  the  immediate  ends  between  which  we  have  to  choose, 
are  quantities  then,  and  intensive  quantities.  Does  the  regu- 
lation of  our  conduct  require  that  they  should  be  added  and 
subtracted  ?    Again  I  do  not  see  how  this  can  be  denied. 

120.  A  boy  is  to  be  sent  to  one  of  two  schools.  At  A  he 
will  get  better  manners,  and  a  purer  Latin  style,  than  he  would 
at  B.  But  at  B  he  will  acquire  habits  of  greater  industry, 
and  greater  bodily  vigour,  than  he  would  at  A.  How  is  the 
question  to  be  decided,  with  perfection  as  the  criterion?  I 
have  already  tried  to  show  in  the  preceding  part  of  this  chapter 
that  it  cannot  be  decided  at  all  on  such  principles,  since  we 
have  absolutely  no  data  to  enable  us  to  guess  whether  a 
particular  English  boy,  in  1917,  will  be  nearer  to  the  supreme 
good  with  industry  and  bad  manners,  or  with  good  manners  and 
indolence.  But  supposing  this  obstacle  got  over,  the  success  of 
the  method  would  then  depend  entirely  on  our  being  able 
to  add  intensive  quantities.  For  here  you  have  two  elements 
of  perfection^ — manners  and  Latin  style — on  the  one  hand, 
and  two  more  elements — industry  and  bodily  vigour — on  the 
other.  And  unless  the  perfections  attained  at  A  have  a  sum 
which  can  be  compared  with  the  sum  of  the  perfections 
attained  at  B,  your  action  will  be  absolutely  unreasonable,  on 
whichever  school  you  may  decide. 

Nor  would  it  be  fair  to  attempt  to  evade  this  by  saying  that 
perfections  of  character  cannot  be  taken  as  units  which  can  be 
aggregated  or  opposed,  but  should  be  considered  as  forming 
a  unity.  No  doubt  this  is  true  of  absolute  perfection.  All 
moments  which  form  part  of  the  supreme  good  are  not  only 
compatible,  but  essentially  and  indissolubly  connected  in  the 
supreme  good.  In  the  supreme  good  whatever  elements  cor- 
respond to  those  imperfect  goods  which  we  call  manners,  and 
Latin  style,  and  industry,  and  bodily  vigour,  will  imply  and 
determine  one  another.  But  not  even  a  public  school  can  land 
us  straight  in  heaven.  And  in  this  imperfect  world  these  four 
qualities  must  be  considered  as  four  separable  goods,  for  every 


THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION  115 

one  of  the  sixteen  combinations  which  their  presence  and 
absence  could  produce  is  notoriously  possible.  We  must  con- 
sider the  problem  before  us  as  one  in  which  two  separate  goods 
are  gained  at  the  expense  of  two  others.  And  how  we  are  to 
come  to  any  opinion  on  this  point,  unless  we  add  the  goodness 
of  the  goods  together,  I  fail  to  conceive. 

Or  again,  with  a  limited  sum  to  spend  on  education,  shall 
we  educate  a  few  people  thoroughly,  or  many  less  thoroughly  ? 
Let  us  assume — and  it  seems  at  least  as  reasonable  as  any  other 
view — that  a  slightly  educated  person  is  nearer  to  perfection 
than  one  completely  uneducated,  and  that  a  thoroughly 
educated  person  is  still  nearer  to  perfection.  How  are  we  to 
decide  between  the  greater  improvement  in  each  one  of  a  few 
people,  and  the  smaller  improvement  in  each  one  of  many  people, 
except  by  estimating  the  sum  of  the  perfections  gained  by  each 
course  ?  Or  the  difficulty  may  arise  about  oneself.  Two  foreign 
tours  may  each  offer  several  quite  heterogeneous  goods.  If  I 
go  to  Italy,  I  may  study  pictures  and  improve  my  knowledge 
of  Roman  antiquities.  If  I  go  to  Germany,  I  may  hear  Wagner 
and  investigate  German  socialism.  If  we  are  to  use  perfection 
as  a  criterion  here,  must  we  not  begin  by  summing  the  good 
which  would  result  from  each  course? 

121.  And  thus  it  would  seem  that  ethical  criteria  in 
general  must  share  the  fate  of  the  hedonic  criterion.  For  the 
only  serious  charge  that  has  been  brought  against  the  latter  is 
that  it  involves  the  addition  and  subtraction  of  intensive 
quantities.  And  we  have  now  seen  that  the  only  other  criterion 
which  has  been  suggested  is  equally  impotent  to  act,  in  most 
cases,  except  by  the  addition  and  subtraction  of  intensive 
quantities. 

This  would  destroy  all  ethical  systems  except  those  which 
made  our  particular  moral  judgments  immediate  and  ultimate. 
And  this  position,  as  I  have  endeavoured  to  show  above ^  is  as 
destructive  to  ethics  in  another  way,  since  it  destroys  all  possi- 
bihty  of  saying  that  any  moral  judgment  is  wrong. 

And  not  only  ethics,  but  all  regulation  of  conduct  with 
regard  to  consequences,   seems  equally  involved.     For  what 

1  Section  101. 

8—2 


116  THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION 

consequence  of  action,  which  we  can  regard  as  valuable,  has 
not  intensive  quantity?  And  how  can  we  act  rationally  with 
regard  to  consequences,  unless  the  different  intensive  quantities 
in  different  sets  of  consequences  can  be  compared  ? 

122.  Let  us  now  consider  whether  the  arguments  which 
lead  to  such  a  negative  result  are  really  valid.  I  do  not  think 
that  they  are.  If  we  have  two  pleasures  of  different  intensities, 
it  is  true,  no  doubt,  that  the  excess  of  A  over  B  is  not  a 
pleasure.  For  we  cannot  imagine  that  part  of  the  intensity  of 
A  existing  by  itself.  Its  meaning  depends  on  its  being  in 
combination  with  the  rest  of  A^s  intensity.  It  would  be 
meaningless  to  ask  what  the  heat  of  an  average  June  day 
would  be  like  after  the  heat  of  an  average  December  day  had 
been  subtracted  from  it.  The  remainder  would  cease  to  be 
what  it  had  been,  as  soon  as  it  was  separated  from  the  other 
part. 

But  although  the  excess  of  A's  intensity  over  B  is  not  a 
pleasure,  I  submit  that  it  is,  nevertheless,  pleasure.  Whatever 
has  quantity  must  be  homogeneous  in  respect  of  some  quality, 
and  is  only  quantitative  in  respect  of  that  homogeneous  quality. 
If  therefore  pleasure  has  an  intensive  quantity,  then  each  part 
of  that  quantity  must  be  pleasure,  including  that  part  by  which 
it  is  greater  than  another. 

If  then  the  excess  of  intensity  of  A  over  B  is  pleasure,  and 
a  quantity,  it  must  be  capable  of  being  brought  into  numerical 
relations  with  other  quantities  of  pleasure.  And  thus,  while  it 
is  true  that  we  cannot  imagine  that  excess  as  a  separate 
pleasure,  we  can  imagine  a  separate  pleasure  which  shall  be 
equal  to  that  excess.  If  this  is  called  C,  then  we  shall  be 
able  to  say  that  the  pleasure  in  A  is  equal  to  the  pleasure 
in  B  and  C.  And  this  is  all  that  is  wanted  for  the  hedonic 
criterion. 

I  must  confess  that  I  find  no  difficulty  in  making  such 
judgments,  and  that  they  seem  to  me  to  have  a  perfectly 
definite  meaning.  I  feel  no  hesitation  in  affirming  that  the 
pleasure  I  get  from  a  plate  of  turtle-soup  is  more  than  twice  the 
pleasure  I  get  from  a  plate  of  pea-soup,  or  that  the  pleasure 
I  get  from  reading  a  new  novel,  together  with  the  pain  of  a  hot 


THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION  117 

walk  to  get  it,  leaves  a  balance  of  pleasure  greater  than  the 
pleasure  from  reading  an  old  novel  oft'  my  shelves.  Of  course 
I  may  make  mistakes  over  these  judgments.  But  mistakes  can 
be  made  about  extensive  quantities  also.  I  may  judge  A  to  be 
six  feet  high,  when  he  is  really  an  inch  less.  But  this  does  not 
prevent  his  height  from  having  a  real  and  definite  relation  to 
the  length  of  a  yard-measure. 

123.  The  certainty  of  any  particular  judgment  as  to  an 
intensive  quantity,  and  the  minuteness  to  which  such  judgments 
can  be  carried,  is  far  less,  certainly,  than  is  the  case  with  j  udg- 
ments  as  to  space,  or  as  to  anything  which  can  be  measured  by 
means  of  spatial  standards.  It  would  be  impossible  to  say  with 
any  confidence  that  one  pleasure  was  3*77  times  as  great  as 
another,  or  even  exactly  twice  as  great.  This  has  sometimes 
been  taken  as  a  proof  of  the  impossibility  of  the  hedonic  cri- 
terion. But  it  is  unfair  to  argue  from  the  impossibility  of 
absolute  certainty  or  exactitude  in  any  class  of  judgments  that 
the  judgments  are  without  any  meaning,  and  that  there  is  no 
objective  truth  to  which  the  judgments  approximate.  This 
would  render  all  judgments  of  quantity  invalid.  When  we 
pronounce  a  yard-measure  to  be  equal  to  the  standard  yard  at 
Westminster,  that  is  only  an  approximation,  dependent  on  the 
accuracy  of  our  instruments,  which  may  be  great  but  is  never 
perfect.  The  approximation  in  the  measurement  of  pleasure  is 
no  doubt  much  rougher,  but  there  is  only  a  difference  of  degree, 
and  if  the  uncertainty  does  not  completely  invalidate  the  judg- 
ment in  one  case,  it  cannot  do  so  in  the  other. 

It  may  be  objected  that  the  uncertainty  of  this  criterion, 
while  not  destroying  its  theoretical  validity,  deprives  it  of  all 
practical  use.  Even  if  this  were  the  case,  it  would  be  no  worse 
off  than  any  other  criterion.  For,  as  was  pointed  out  above, 
the  value  of  an  action  cannot  be  judged  by  the  standard  of 
perfection  without  the  addition  and  subtraction  of  intensive 
quantities.  The  only  difference  is  one  which  is  to  the  advantage 
of  hedonism,  for  no  one  ever  mistakes  intense  pain  for  intense 
pleasure,  while  ideals  of  perfection  have  been  so  different  and 
incompatible  that,  whoever  is  right,  many  people  must  have 
mistaken  great  defects  for  great  excellences. 


118  THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION 

But  there  seems  no  reason  for  supposing  that  our  estimates 
of  pleasures  and  pains  are  so  inaccurate  as  to  be  useless.  We 
all  make  these  estimates  many  times  daily — even  those  of  us  who 
do  not  accept  them  as  moral  criteria.  Can  it  be  asserted  that 
they  have  no  worth  whatever,  and  that  everyone  would  on  the 
whole  be  just  as  happy  if  he  always  took  the  course  which 
seemed  to  him  in  anticipation  to  be  less  pleasant?  Supposing 
that,  on  the  next  Bank  Holiday,  every  person  who  should  think 
that  he  would  enjoy  Epping  Forest  more  than  Hampstead 
Heath,  should  nevertheless  go  to  Hampstead,  is  there  any  doubt 
that  there  would  be  a  net  loss  of  pleasure?  Much  uncertainty 
and  error  there  certainly  is  in  our  estimates.  But  the  only  fair 
consequence  to  draw  from  this  is  that  the  conduct  of  human  life 
is  often  a  doubtful  and  difficult  matter.  And  this  conclusion  is 
neither  novel.nor  absurd. 

124.  We  now  pass  on  to  the  third  division  of  the  subject. 
Even  if  pleasure  gives  us  a  criterion  which  is  applicable,  does  it 
give  us  one  which  is  correct  ? 

The  supreme  good,  as  defined  at  the  beginning  of  this 
chapter,  may  be  analysed  into  two  moments.  On  the  one  hand 
each  individual  has  a  nature,  whose  satisfaction  he  postulates. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  relation  of  each  individual  with  others 
is  such  that  it  satisfies  the  natures  of  all  of  them.  This  analysis 
of  the  supreme  reality,  which  is  also  the  supreme  good,  is  not 
the  only  one  which  is  possible.  Indeed  it  may  be  said  that  it  is 
not  a  perfectly  adequate  analysis,  since  it  gives  a  primacy  to  the 
nature  of  the  individual  over  the  nature  of  the  whole  which 
misrepresents  the  perfectly  equal  and  reciprocal  relation  in- 
dicated in  the  Absolute  Idea.  But  it  is,  I  think,  the  most 
adequate  analysis  of  absolute  reaUty  which  is  possible  for  Ethics. 
Ethics  is  based  on  the  idea  of  Volition — an  idea  which  the 
Logic  shows  us  is  transcended  by  the  Absolute  Idea — and 
cannot  rise  above  the  view  of  reality  under  the  category  of 
Volition,  the  peculiarity  of  which  is  exactly  this  over-emphasis 
on  the  nature  of  the  individual  as  compared  with  the  nature  of 
the  whole ^. 

The  imperfection  by  which  we  fall  short  of  the  supreme 

1  Cp.  Sections  276—279. 


THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION  119 

good  is  two-fold.  On  the  one  hand  the  ideals  of  which  we 
postulate  the  fultilment  are  not  absolutely  the  same  ideals 
which  would  be  found  in  a  state  of  perfection.  On  the  other 
hand  the  ideals  which  we  have  are  not  completely  satisfied. 
The  two  sides  are  closely  connected.  Nothing  but  perfect 
ideals  could  ever  be  perfectly  satisfied,  nor  could  an  unsatisfied 
ideal  be  quite  perfect.  For  all  things  react  on  one  another, 
and  the  perfection  of  any  part  of  the  universe  is  only  possible 
on  condition  that  the  rest  is  perfect  too.  At  the  same  time, 
the  two  sides  are  sufficiently  distinct  for  progress  in  the  one 
to  co-exist,  for  a  time  at  least,  with  retrogression  in  the  other. 
A  man  may  become  less  in  harmony  with  his  surroundings  as 
his  ideal  rises,  and  may  become  more  in  harmony  with  them 
by  lowering  his  ideal. 

125.  Other  things  being  equal,  a  man  is  happier  in  pro- 
portion as  he  is  more  in  harmony  with  his  environment.  In 
so  far,  therefore,  as  our  efforts  are  devoted  to  the  increase  of 
happiness,  they  will  tend  to  produce  a  greater  amount  of 
harmony  between  individuals  and  their  environment,  and  so 
will  be  directed  to  the  increase  of  one  moment  of  the  supreme 
good. 

So  far,  then,  the  hedonic  criterion  would  be  a  trustworthy 
guide.  But  there  is  the  other  element  in  the  supreme  good 
to  be  considered.  Our  ideals  must  be  developed  more  fully 
as  well  as  more  completely  satisfied.  And  to  this  element 
the  criterion  of  happiness  has  no  necessary  or  uniform  relation. 

Very  often,  indeed,  a  man  is  led  by  desire  for  his  own 
happiness  to  actions  which  develop  his  ideals  towards  perfection. 
A  man  with  a  certain  taste  for  music,  for  example,  may  be 
desirous  of  the  intense  happiness  which  music  gives  to  those 
whose  taste  is  more  developed,  and  may  consequently  give  such 
time  and  attention  to  it,  as  will  make  his  taste  purer  and  more 
subtle  than  before.  Or,  again,  without  any  desire  for  a  higher 
musical  ideal,  he  may  give  his  attention  to  music  simply  to 
satisfy  the  desire  which  he  already  has  for  it,  and  may,  through 
the  knowledge  and  experience  thus  gained,  find  that  his 
appreciation  of  music  has  become  more  discriminating  and 
more  intense. 


120    THE  SFPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITEIIION 

Very  often,  again,  a  man  develops  his  own  ideals  by  his 
desire  for  the  happiness  of  others.  If  he  educates  himself  in 
order  that  he  may  support  his  parents,  or  serve  his  country,  he 
will  probably  find  that  one  effect  of  his  education  has  been  to 
develop  his  ideals  of  knowledge  and  beauty.  Again,  benevolence 
is  a  disposition  which  increases  by  being  indulged,  and  one 
result  of  acting  for  the  happiness  of  others  is  often  to  desire 
that  happiness  more  keenly  than  before. 

There  are  also  the  cases  when  the  agent's  action  is  directed 
to  improving  the  ideals  of  another  person  on  the  ground  that 
this  will  conduce  to  the  happiness  either  of  the  person  improved, 
or  of  a  third  person.  Much  of  the  moral  education  of  children 
falls  under  this  head.  In  some  cases,  no  doubt,  a  quality  is 
inculcated  because  it  is  thought  desirable  per  se,  but  very 
frequently  the  reason  is  to  be  found  in  a  consideration  of  the 
future  happiness  of  the  child,  or  of  the  people  with  whom  it 
will  associate  in  after  life. 

126.  But  there  are  cases  in  which  the  hedonic  criterion 
would  by  no  means  lead  us  to  the  development  of  what  we 
should  regard  as  a  higher  ideal.  It  is  true  that,  if  we  accept 
Hegel's  principles,  and  if  we  see  reason  to  include  among  them 
the  immortality  of  the  individual,  we  should  be  bound  to  hold 
that  every  heightening  of  the  ideal  would  eventually  mean 
increased  happiness.  For  happiness  depends  for  its  amount, 
not  merely  on  the  completeness  with  which  the  environment 
answers  to  our  ideals,  but  also  on  the  vividness  and  completeness 
of  those  ideals.  The  more  numerous  and  the  more  earnest  are 
our  wishes,  the  happier  we  shall  be  in  their  satisfaction,  if  they 
are  satisfied.  The  more  completely  we  are  self-conscious 
individuals,  the  greater  will  be  the  happiness  and  the  misery 
of  which  we  are  capable.  Since  the  end  of  the  time-process 
will  be  absolute  harmony,  we  may  safely  assert  that  anything 
which  makes  our  ideals  more  perfect  will  in  the  long  run  be 
the  cause  of  greater  happiness,  since  it  will  increase  the 
intensity  of  our  demands,  and  so  of  their  eventual  satis- 
faction. 

But  although  the  complete  development  of  our  ideals  might 
be  known  a  priori  to  involve  the  greatest  happiness,  it  does 


THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION     121 

not  follow  that  the  hedonic  criterion  would  lead  us  in  the 
direction  of  the  complete  development  of  our  ideals.  For  this 
coincidence  of  development  and  happiness  is  only  known  to  be 
certain  in  the  indefinitely  remote  future,  a  future  far  too  remote 
to  be  known  by  any  empirical  calculations.  We  may  be  certain 
that  complete  development  will  mean  complete  happiness. 
But  it  by  no  means  follows  that,  if  we  aim  at  the  greatest 
happiness  which  we  can  perceive  to  be  attainable  by  our 
present  action,  we  shall  be  aiming  in  the  direction  of  complete 
development. 

127.  And  there  are  many  cases  in  which  we  should  judge 
that  the  development  of  our  ideals  would  indicate  a  course 
which  would  rather  diminish  than  increase  happiness.  A  man 
is  generally  admitted  to  be  nearer  to  perfection  in  proportion 
as  his  love  of  truth,  or  his  concern  for  the  happiness  of  others, 
increases.  And  yet  the  love  of  truth  may  force  us  to  change 
very  comforting  beliefs  for  very  depressing  ones.  And  in  so 
imperfect  a  state  as  the  present  increased  sympathy  for  the 
happiness  or  misery  of  others  often  produces  more  misery  than 
happiness  for  the  sympathiser. 

Of  course  the  hedonic  criterion  does  not  take  account  of 
the  pleasure  of  the  agent  only,  but  of  all  people  who  are 
affected  by  the  action.  This  makes  a  considerable  difference, 
for  it  not  infrequently  happens  that  a  development  which 
makes  a  person  more  miserable  makes  him  also  more  useful. 
But  there  are  cases  where  the  opposite  happens.  To  lose  a 
false,  but  inspiriting,  belief  may  diminish  a  man's  utility  as 
well  as  his  happiness.  And,  if  my  chances  of  helping  others 
are  few,  an  increase  of  benevolence  on  my  part  may  deprive 
me  of  much  more  happiness  than  it  enables  me  to  bestow  upon 
them. 

There  are  circumstances  in  which  an  exclusive  regard  for 
happiness  would  lead  us  not  only  to  shrink  from  development, 
but  actually  to  endeavour  to  fall  back  in  the  scale.  It  would 
be  generally  admitted  that  a  man  who  was  chronically  under 
the  influence  of  drugs  had  fallen,  so  far  as  his  ideals  went, 
below  the  level  of  a  man  who  kept  his  intellect  and  will 
unclouded.     And  there  are  men  whose  physical  and  mental 


122    THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION 

sufferings  are  so  great  that  they  would  be  happier — or  at 
least  less  unhappy — if  they  were  kept  continually  drugged 
with  opiates.  This  might  increase  not  only  their  own  happiness, 
but  happiness  in  general,  for  a  man  who  is  in  great  and  constant 
pain  is  not  likely  to  cause  much  pleasure  to  anyone,  while  his 
condition  will  certainly  cause  pain  to  his  friends. 

There  are  thus  cases  in  which  the  hedonic  criterion  would 
direct  us  to  a  goal  which,  as  far  as  we  can  see,  is,  in  respect 
of  the  other  moment  of  the  supreme  good,  something  lower, 
and  not  higher  than  the  starting-point.  Under  such  cir- 
cumstances ought  we  to  follow  the  hedonic  criterion,  or  to 
reject  it? 

128.  The  question  is  not  put  fairly  if  it  is  represented  as 
a  choice  between  happiness  and  perfection.  For  the  happiness 
is  also  an  element  of  perfection.  The  supreme  good  consists 
in  a  complete  development  of  our  ideals,  and  a  complete 
satisfaction  of  them  when  developed.  We  are  more  perfect 
in  proportion  as  either  of  these  takes  place,  and  less  perfect 
in  proportion  as  it  is  wanting.  Happiness  is  not  by  itself  the 
supreme  good,  but  any  happiness,  so  far  as  it  goes,  is  good,  and 
any  absence  of  happiness  bad. 

This  comes  out  more  clearly  if  we  take  examples  in  which 
the  happiness  at  stake  is  not  that  of  the  agent.  For  so  much 
sin  comes  from  attaching  excessive  weight  to  the  happiness  of 
the  sinner,  and  morality  has  to  check  self-interest  so  much 
oftener  than  to  encourage  it,  that  we  are  apt  to  fall  into  the 
delusion  that  happiness  should  not  be  measured  against  develop- 
ment. But.  if  we  ask  whether  I  ought  always  to  choose  to 
slightly  elevate  another  person's  ideals,  at  the  cost  of  great 
suffering  to  him,  or  if  I  ought  always  to  choose  to  slightly 
elevate  my  own  ideals,  at  the  cost  of  great  suffering  to  some- 
one else,  it  becomes  clear  that  happiness  and  development  are 
ethically  commensurable,  and  that  we  have  no  right  to  treat 
a  loss  of  either  as  ethically  indifferent. 

Thus  the  conflict  is  between  two  elements  of  the  good. 
Now  we  saw  above  that  it  was  impossible  to  compare  such 
elements  with  any  hope  of  discovering  which  was  the  more 
desirable.     And  in  this  case  the  difficulty  is  greater   than   in 


THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION     123 

any  other,  because  we  are  comparing  the  two  primary  elements, 
which  exhibit  the  greatest  heterogeneity  to  be  found  in  the 
content  of  the  good.  How  miserable  would  civilized  men  have 
to  be,  before  it  would  be  better  for  them  to  change  their  state 
for  that  of  happy  savages?  How  much  more  misery  would 
make  it  worth  their  while  to  accept  the  passivity  of  oysters  ? 

129.  Common  sense  generally  deals  with  this  class  of 
questions  by  judging  that  a  great  change  for  the  good  in  one 
element  will  counterbalance  a  moderate  change  for  the  bad  in 
the  other.  It  would  approve  of  a  man  who  sought  refuge  from 
extreme  physical  pain  in  drugs  which  left  his  mind  slightly  less 
clear,  but  not  of  one  who  paid  this  price  to  avoid  a  slight  dis- 
comfort. It  would  count  a  keen  insight  into  fallacies  as  good, 
although  life  was  thereby  made  somewhat  more  dreary,  but  not 
if  the  result  was  to  destroy  entirely  the  happiness  of  the 
thinker,  and  to  injure  the  happiness  of  his  friends. 

130.  But  such  a  position  as  this  is  theoretically  indefensible. 
It  implies  that  we  have  some  means  of  knowing,  within  very 
broad  limits,  how  much  happiness  will  be  more  worth  having 
than  a  given  degree  of  development.  And  it  is  impossible  to 
settle  this.  On  the  other  hand  the  position  is  so  vague  that 
it  has  very  little  practical  value.  For,  in  most  of  the  cases 
which  present  themselves,  the  gains  and  losses  are  not  so 
extreme  in  proportion  to  one  another  as  to  allow  Common 
sense  to  give  an  opinion  at  all. 

The  matter  can  often  be  settled,  no  doubt,  by  adhering 
strictly  to  the  hedonic  criterion  on  the  ground  that  we  are 
much  more  certain  of  the  happiness  or  the  misery  than  we  are 
of  the  advance  towards,  or  the  retreat  from,  the  goal  of  a  per- 
fectly developed  ideal.  But  this  is  not  always  true.  It  some- 
times happens  that  the  retrogression  in  development,  which 
accompanies  the  increased  happiness,  seems  beyond  all  doubt. 

131.  To  sum  up — we  have  seen  that  a  moral  criterion  is 
necessary,  if  any  sincere  ethical  judgment  is  to  be  pronounced 
either  right  or  wrong — that  is,  if  morality  is  to  have  any 
objectivity  at  all.  We  have  seen  that  the  possible  criteria 
appear  to  be  confined  to  pleasure  and  perfection.  We  have 
seen  that  perfection  breaks  down,  if  we  attempt  to  use  it  in 


124  THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION 

this  way.  Pleasure,  on  the  other  hand,  does  seem  to  be 
a  possible  criterion — difficult,  indeed,  to  apply,  but  offering  no 
greater  difficulties  than  those  which  appear  to  be  inherent  in 
ethics.  But  when  we  enquire  if  it  is  a  correct  criterion  of  the 
good,  we  find  that  it  only  measures  one  of  the  two  elements 
into  which  the  good  may  be  analysed. 

There  are  four  possible  cases.  In  the  first,  the  action  to 
which  the  hedonic  criterion  would  guide  us,  involves  in  our 
judgment  a  greater  development  of  ideals.  In  this  case  it  is 
clear  that  we  should  take  this  course,  since  both  elements  of 
the  good  are  increased. 

In  the  second  case,  our  action,  whichever  way  we  act,  will 
as  far  as  we  can  see  make  no  difference  to  the  development  of 
ideals.  Here  too  we  can  safely  abide  by  the  hedonic  criterion, 
since  that  measures  the  only  element  of  the  good  which  our 
decision  can  be  seen  to  affect. 

In  the  third  case,  our  action  may  make  a  considerable 
difference  to  the  development  of  our  ideals,  but  we  are  unable 
to  tell  whether  the  difference  will  be  for  good  or  for  evil. 
Once  more  we  shall  do  well  to  follow  the  hedonic  criterion. 
For  then,  at  any  rate,  we  shall  gain  in  respect  of  one  element 
of  the  good.  We  may  indeed  lose  much  more  in  respect  of 
development.  But  then  we  niay  gain  in  respect  of  that  element 
also.  Since  the  effect  on  development  is  unknown,  the  only 
rational  course,  if  we  must  act,  is  to  be  guided  by  the  effect  on 
happiness,  which  is  known. 

But  in  the  fourth  case  the  course  to  which  the  hedonic 
criterion  would  guide  us  has  in  our  judgment  an  unfavourable 
effect  on  the  development  of  ideals,  as  compared  with  the 
alternative  course.  In  this  case  there  seems  no  reasonable 
solution.  For  we  cannot  estimate  the  quantity  of  loss  to  de- 
■  velopment,  and,  if  we  could,  we  are  ignorant  of  the  common 
standard  by  which  this  could  be  compared  with  the  gain  in 
pleasure. 

132.  In  considering  how  much  uncertainty  this  brings  into 
ethics,  we  must  remember  once  more  that  the  question  is  not 
limited  to  the  pleasure  and  the  development  of  the  agent  but 
includes  the  consideration  of  the  pleasure  and  development  of 


THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION     125 

all  people  affected  by  the  action.  This  diminishes  the  number 
of  cases  of  the  fourth  class,  for  the  happiness  a  man  gives  is 
generally  more  closely  proportioned  to  the  development  of  his 
ideals  than  is  the  happiness  he  enjoys. 

And,  again,  we  must  remember  that  the  object  of  a  moral 
criterion  is  strictly  practical.  Its  object  is  to  guide  our  action. 
It  follows  from  this  that  it  is  comparatively  unimportant  if  it 
fails  to  indicate  which  of  two  events  would  be  the  better,  in 
those  cases  in  which  our  action  cannot  bring  about  or  hinder 
either  alternative.  It  is  no  doubt  convenient  to  know  what 
would  be  gain  and  what  loss,  but  the  real  need  to  know  arrives 
only  when  our  knowledge  can  help  us  to  bring  about  the  gain 
or  avoid  the  loss. 

Now  the  development  of  our  ideals  is,  in  many  cases, 
entirely  out  of  our  power,  to  help  or  hinder.  It  is  possible 
that  a  man  might  get  more  pleasure  if  he  could  retain  his 
childish  taste  for  sweetmeats,  and  avoid  the  growth  of  a  taste 
for  claret.  At  any  rate  he  could  satisfy  himself  at  less  expense. 
But  no  efforts,  on  his  own  part  or  that  of  his  teachers,  will 
prevent  the  relative  places  of  sweetmeats  and  claret  in  the 
scale  of  pleasures  being  different  for  the  average  man  from  what 
they  were  to  the  average  boy. 

It  is  possible,  again,  that  the  general  religious  attitude  of 
the  twelfth  century  gave  a  greater  balance  of  pleasure  than 
was  given  by  the  general  religious  attitude  of  the  nineteenth 
century.  But  if  the  majority  had  known  this  beforehand,  and 
had  acted  on  the  most  rigidly  Utilitarian  principles,  could  their 
united  efforts  have  averted  the  Renaissance,  the  Reformation, 
or  the  Illumination? 

Our  desires  have  a  dialectic  of  their  own,  and  no  finite  ideal 
can  satisfy  us  indefinitely.  Some  we  transcend  as  soon  as  we 
have  attained  them.  For  others  a  period  of  enjoyment  is  neces- 
sary before  they  pall.  In  other  cases,  again,  the  mere  desire 
for  an  unattained  ideal  seems  to  be  sufficient  to  demonstrate, 
after  a  time,  its  inadequacy.  Our  volition  has,  no  doubt,  a 
certain  influence  on  this  process.  But  there  are  many  cases 
in  which  it  would  proceed  in  spite  of  all  our  efforts  to  restrain 
it.     And  even  if  in  these  cases,  the  process  should  diminish 


126  THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION 

happiness,  we  should  do  but  little  harm  if  we  directed  our 
action  by  the  hedonic  criterion.  For,  while  such  action  would 
be  mistaken,  it  would  be  also  inefiective. 

133.  But  after  all  these  deductions  it  remains  true  that 
there  are  cases  of  the  fourth  class  in  which  our  decisions  will 
have  a  decisive  effect  on  the  result,  and  that  ethics  ofiers  us 
no  principle  upon  which  to  make  the  decisions.  There  is 
thus  no  possibiUty  of  moral  action  in  deciding  them. 

This  is  a  less  revolutionary  conclusion  than  it  appears  at 
first  sight.  It  does  not  deny  that  one  of  the  two  alternatives 
is  always  objectively  better  than  the  other i.  One  of  the  two 
finite  and  incompatible  goods — the  particular  gain  of  pleasure, 
or  the  particular  gain  in  development  of  ideals — would  raise  us 
nearer  to  the  supreme  good  than  the  other.  This  is  the  one 
to  be  accepted.  But,  since  they  have  no  common  standard  but 
the  supreme  good,  we  could  only  compare  them  if  we  know  the 
exact  relation  of  each  of  them  to  the  supreme  good,  and  this  we 
do  not  know. 

134.  The  impossibility  of  decision  arises,  then,  not  from  the 
facts  of  the  case,  but  from  our  ignorance  about  them.  Now 
every  system  of  ethics,  with  the  exception  of  those  which 
believe  in  an  immediate  and  unerring  intuition  for  every 
particular  choice,  must  hold  that  there  are  some  cases  where  it 
is  impossible  to  see  what  the  best  course  is.  If  we  take  the 
hedonic  criterion,  there  are  cases  in  which  the  alternative 
actions  seem  to  present  such  equal  balances  of  pleasure  that 
it  is  impossible  to  see  which  is  the  greater.  If  we  take 
perfection,  two  incompatible  goods  may  seem  so  equally  good 
that  no  reason  can  be  found  for  choice.  Indeed  an  ethical 
system  which  denied  that  the  best  and  wisest  men  were 
sometimes  compelled  to  act  utterly  in  the  dark  would  be  in 
glaring  contradiction  to  the  facts  of  Hfe. 

There  is  only  one  difference  between  the  difficulties  I  have 
described  above  as  arising  on  my  theory  and  these  others  which 

1  There  is  of  course  the  abstract  possibiUty  of  the  good  produced  by  each 
alternative  being  exactly  equal.  But  the  chance  of  this  is  too  small  to  be  worth 
considering.  And,  if  it  did  occur,  it  is  obvious  that  we  could  not  go  wrong, 
whatever  we  did,  which  would  not  be  an  unsatisfactory  conclusion. 


THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION     127 

exist  on  any  theory.  The  latter  are  merely  quantitative.  They 
arise  from  the  complexity,  or  the  equality,  of  data  whose  nature 
is  not  incompatible  with  a  reasoned  choice,  and  which  admit  of 
such  choice  when  the  instance  is  simpler  or  less  evenly  balanced. 
In  the  cases  of  the  fourth  class,  which  I  described  in  Section 
131,  on  the  other  hand,  the  problem  is  one  to  which  the  only 
methods  of  decision  possible  to  us,  in  our  present  imperfect 
state,  do  not  apply  at  all. 

My  theory  does  thus  involve  rather  more  ethical  scepticism 
than  the  others.  But  this  is  of  no  importance  in  practice. 
For  in  practice  the  important  point  is  not  to  know  the  reason 
why  some  moral  problems  are  insoluble.  Practice  is  only  con- 
cerned to  enquire  how  many,  and  how  serious,  are  the  insoluble 
problems. 

135.  And,  fortunately,  the  attainment  of  the  good  does  not 
ultimately  depend  upon  action.  If  it  did,  it  might  be  rather 
alarming  to  think  that  there  were  certain  cases  in  which  we  did 
not  know  how  to  act.  But,  after  all,  if  it  did  depend  on  action, 
things  would  be  so  bad  on  any  theory  of  ethics  that  minor  differ- 
ences would  be  unimportant.  If  the  nature  of  reality  was  hostile 
or  indifferent  to  the  good,  nothing  but  the  most  meagre  and 
transitory  gains  could  ever  be  made  by  creatures  so  weak  and 
insignificant  as  we  should  be  in  such  a  universe.  But,  if  as 
Hegel  teaches  us,  that  which  we  recognize  as  the  supreme  good 
is  also  the  supreme  reality,  then  it  must  inevitably  realise  itself 
in  the  temporal  process,  and  no  mistakes  of  ours  can  hinder 
the  advance  and  the  eventual  attainment. 

136.  There  is  therefore  nothing  in  this  occasional  failure 
of  the  only  available  criterion  which  should  make  us  think 
more  meanly  of  reality,  or  more  hopelessly  of  the  good.  And 
we  should  count  it  a  gain,  and  not  a  loss,  if  it  emphasises  the 
inadequacy  both  of  the  practice  of  morality,  and  of  the  science 
of  ethics.  For  this  is  one  of  the  most  profound  and  important 
consequences  of  all  metaphysical  idealism.  Virtue,  and  the 
science  which  deals  with  it,  imply  the  possibility  of  sin,  they 
imply  action,  and  they  imply  time.  And  they  share,  therefore, 
the  inadequacy  of  matter  and  of  the  physical  sciences.  The 
conception   of  virtue  is,   indeed,   more    adequate    than    such 


128     THE  SUPREME  GOOD  AND  THE  MORAL  CRITERION 

conceptions  as  matter  and  notion.  But,  like  them,  it  reveals 
its  own  imperfection,  and,  like  them,  it  must  be  transcended 
and  absorbed  before  we  can  reach  either  the  absolutely  real  or 
the  absolutely  good. 


Note  to  Second  Edition 

I  should  now  attribute  more  validity  and  importance  to 
immediate  judgments  as  to  the  relative  value  of  heterogeneous 
goods.     (Cp.  Sections  129-134.) 


CHAPTER   V 

PUNISHMENT 

137.  We  may  define  punishment  as  the  infliction  of  pain 
on  a  person  because  he  has  done  wrong.  That  it  must  be 
painful,  and  that  it  must  be  inflicted  on  a  person  who  has 
done,  or  is  thought  to  have  done,  wrong,  will  be  generally 
admitted.  But  we  must  also  remember  that  it  is  essential 
that  it  should  be  inflicted  became  of  the  wrong-doing.  In  the 
children's  books  of  an  earher  generation,  the  boy  who  went 
out  without  his  mother's  leave  was  struck  by  Ughtning.  This 
cannot,  unless  theology  is  introduced,  be  considered  as  a 
punishment.  For  the  Hghtning  would  have  struck  with  equal 
readiness  any  boy  on  the  same  spot,  although  provided  with 
the  most  ample  parental  authority.  And  more  modern  and 
pretentious  works,  while  less  amusing,  are  not  more  accurate. 
They  speak  of  the  rewards  and  punishments  which  Nature 
herself  distributes  among  us.  But  Nature — the  Nature  of 
science  and  common  sense — though  she  often  destroys,  never 
punishes.  For  the  moral  value  of  an  action  makes  no  difference 
to  her.  She  takes  no  account  of  intention  or  purpose.  She 
destroys,  with  a  magnificent  indifference,  ahke  the  man  who 
has  injured  his  body  by  self-indulgence,  and  the  man  who  has 
injured  his  body  in  his  work  for  others.  Her  bacteria  are  shed 
abroad  equally  on  the  man  who  let  the  drains  go  wrong,  on 
the  man  who  is  trying  to  put  them  right,  and  on  the  child 
who  was  not  consulted  in  the  matter.  Some  people  assert 
Nature  to  be  above  morality,  but,  whether  above  or  below,  she 
is  certainly  indifferent  to  it.  And  so,  to  get  a  proper  use  of 
the  idea  of  punishment  we  must  go  beyond  her. 

138.  Punishment,  then,  is  pain,  and  to  inflict  pain  on  any 
person  obviously  needs  a  justification.     There  are  four  ways 


130  PUNISHMENT 

in  which  punishment  is  usually  justified — not  by  any  means 
incompatible.  One  punishment  might  be  defended  under  all 
of  them.  The  first  is  the  theory  of  vindictive  punishment. 
It  asserts  that,  if  a  man  has  done  wrong  it  is  right  and  just 
that  he  should  suffer  for  it,  even  if  the  pain  does  no  good, 
either  to  himself  or  to  others.  The  punishment  is  looked  on 
as  a  satisfaction  of  abstract  justice,  and  he  is  said  to  deserve 
it.  The  second  way  in  which  a  punishment  may  be  defended 
is  that  it  is  deterrent.  It  is  desirable  to  suppress  wrong-doing. 
And  so  we  try  to  attach  to  a  fault  a  punishment  so  certain, 
and  so  severe,  that  the  remembrance  of  it  will  prevent  the 
offender  from  offending  again,  while  the  fear  of  a  similar 
punishment  will  deter  others  from  a  similar  crime. 

We  must  mark  here  an  important  distinction.  In  these 
two  cases  the  object  which  justified  our  action  could  only  be 
obtained  by  punishment.  In  the  first,  abstract  justice  was 
supposed  to  require  that  the  man  should  be  made  unhappy. 
In  the  second  case,  it  is  clear  that  you  can  only  deter — that 
is,  frighten — men  from  crime  by  making  its  consequences 
painful.  But  now  we  come  to  two  other  uses  of  punishment 
which  do  not  depend  on  its  being  painful,  but  on  other 
qualities  which  the  particular  punishment  happens  to  possess. 
The  first  of  these  is  that  it  may  deprive  the  criminal  under 
punishment  of  the  chance  of  committing  fresh  crimes.  A  man 
cannot  steal  while  he  is  in  prison,  nor  commit  murder — in  this 
life — after  he  has  been  hanged.  But  this  effect  does  not  come 
because  the  man  has  been  punished.  If  he  welcomed  imprison- 
ment or  death  gladly,  they  would  cease  to  be  punishments,  but 
they  would  be  equally  preventive  of  crime. 

The  second  of  these  further  advantages  of  punishment  is 
the  reformation  of  the  criminal.  This  does  not  mean  that  the 
punishment  frightens  him  from  offending  again.  That  is  the 
deterrent  effect,  of  which  we  spoke  before.  But  a  punishment 
may  sometimes  really  cure  a  man  of  his  vicious  tendencies. 
The  solitude  which  it  gives  him  for  reflection,  or  the  religious 
influences  which  may  be  brought  to  bear  on  him  in  prison, 
or  the  instruction  which  he  may  receive  there,  may  give  him 
a  horror  of  vice  or  a  love  of  virtue  which  he  had  not  before. 


PUNISHMENT  131 

But  if  his  punishment  does  this,  it  is  not  as  a  punishment. 
If  his  character  is,  by  such  means,  changed  for  the  better, 
that  change  is  not  made  because  he  was  unhappy.  Thus,  for 
reformation,  as  well  as  for  prevention,  punishment  may  be 
a  useful  means,  but  only  incidentally;  while  it  is  only  by 
means  of  punishment  that  we  can  avenge  a  crime,  or  deter 
men  from  repeating  it. 

139.  Of  late  years  we  have  almost  given  up  the  theory 
of  vindictive  punishment,  both  in  law  and  education,  though 
it  is  still  retained  in  theology  by  those  who  accept  the  doctrine 
that  punishment  may  be  eternal.  The  ordinary  view  of  the 
use  of  punishment  in  law  is,  I  take  it,  that  its  main  object  is 
deterrent — to  prevent  crime  by  making  the  possible  criminal 
afraid  of  the  punishment  which  would  follow.  Its  preventive 
use — of  checking  crime  by  restraining  or  removing  persons  who 
have  already  proved  themselves  criminals — is  also  considered 
important,  but  in  a  lesser  degree.  Finally,  if  the  state  can 
reform  the  criminal  while  punishing  him,  it  considers  itself 
bound  to  try;  but  the  primary  object  of  criminal  justice  is 
held  to  be  the  protection  of  the  innocent  rather  than  the 
improvement  of  the  guilty,  and  therefore  the  discouragement 
of  crime  is  taken  as  of  more  importance  than  the  reform  of 
the  criminal. 

Capital  punishment,  indeed,  is  still  sometimes  defended  on 
the  ground  of  vindictive  justice,  but  more  often  as  being 
deterrent  of  crime  on  the  part  of  others,  and  a  safeguard 
against  its  repetition  by  the  particular  criminal  executed. 
And  in  other  cases  vindictive  punishment  has  dropped  out 
of  law,  and,  perhaps,  still  more  out  of  education. 

There  is  no  tendency  to  the  contrary  in  Sir  James  Stephen's 
ingenious  defence  of  the  vindictive  pleasure  that  men  feel  in 
punishing  atrocious  criminals.  He  defends  that  pleasure  on 
the  ground  that  it  renders  their  punishment  more  certain. 
But  he  does  not  recommend  that  a  man  should  be  punished 
merely  because  he  has  done  wrong.  He  only  says  that,  in 
cases  where  punishment  is  desirable  for  the  good  of  society, 
it  is  advisable  to  cultivate  any  feelings  which  will  lead  people 
to  exert  themselves  to  bring  that  punishment  about. 

9—2 


132  PUNISHMENT 

140.  We  have  now  seen  what  the  ordinary  view  of  punish- 
ment is.  My  object  is  to  consider  what  relation  to  this  view 
is  held  by  Hegel's  theory  of  punishment,  as  expressed  in  his 
Philosophy  of  Law.  It  has  often  been  said  that  he  supports 
vindictive  punishment.  And,  at  first  sight,  it  looks  as  if  he 
did.  For  he  expressly  says  that  it  is  superficial  to  regard 
punishment  as  protective  to  society,  or  as  deterring  or  im- 
proving the  criminal.  Now  in  so  far  as  it  is  not  protective 
or  deterring,  we  must  give  up  the  theories  which  we  have 
called  the  preventive  and  the  deterrent.  In  so  far  as  it  is 
not  improving,  we  must  give  up  the  reformatory  theory, 
Hegel  does  not  deny  that  punishment  may  deter,  prevent, 
or  improve,  and  he  does  not  deny  that  this  will  be  an 
additional  advantage.  But  he  says  that  none  of  these  are 
the  chief  object  of  punishment,  and  none  of  these  express 
its  real  nature.  It  would  seem,  therefore,  that  he  must  intend 
to  advocate  vindictive  punishment.  And  this  is  confirmed  by 
the  fact  that  he  expressly  says  the  object  of  punishment  is  not 
to  do  "this  or  that"  good. 

Nevertheless,  I  believe  that  Hegel  had  not  the  shghtest 
intention  of  advocating  what  we  have  called  vindictive  punish- 
ment. For  he  says,  beyond  the  possibility  of  doubt,  that  in 
punishment  the  criminal  is  to  be  treated  as  a  moral  being — 
that  is,  one  who  is  potentially  moral,  however  immoral  he  may 
be  in  fact,  and  one  in  whom  this  potential  morality  must  be 
called  into  actual  existence.  He  complains  that  by  the  de- 
terrent theory  we  treat  a  man  like  a  dog  to  whom  his  master 
shows  a  whip,  and  not  as  a  free  being.  He  says  that  the 
criminal  has  a  right  to  be  punished,  which  indicates  that  the 
punishment  is  in  a  sense  for  his  sake.  And,  still  more 
emphatically,  "in  punishment  the  offender  is  honoured  as  a 
rational  being,  since  the  punishment  is  looked  on  as  his 
right  1." 

Now  this  is  incompatible  with  the  view  that  Hegel  is  here 

approving  of  vindictive  punishment.     For  he  says  that  a  man 

is  only  to  be  punished  because  he  is  a  moral  being,  and  that 

it    would    be    an    injury    to    him    not    to    punish    him.     The 

^  Philosophy  of  Law,  Sections  99  and  100. 


PUNISHMENT  133 

vindictive  theory  knows  nothing  of  all  this.  It  inflicts  pain 
on  a  man,  not  for  his  ultimate  good,  but  because,  as  it  says, 
he  has  deserved  to  suffer  pain.  And,  on  Hegel's  theory, 
punishment  depends  on  the  recognition  of  the  criminal's 
rational  and  moral  nature,  so  that,  in  his  phrase,  it  is  an 
honour  as  well  as  a  disgrace.  Nothing  of  the  sort  exists 
for  vindictive  punishment.  It  does  not  care  whether  the 
sinner  can  or  will  be  good  in  the  future.  It  punishes  him 
because  he  has  done  wrong  in  the  past.  If  we  look  at  the 
doctrine  of  hell — which  is  a  pure  case  of  vindictive  punish- 
ment— we  see  that  it  is  possible  to  conceive  punishment  of 
this  sort  when  the  element  of  a  potential  moral  character  has 
entirely  disappeared,  for  I  suppose  that  the  supporters  of  this 
doctrine  would  deny  the  possibility  of  repentance  in  hell,  since 
they  deny  the  possibihty  of  pardon, 

141.  What,  then,  is  Hegel's  theory?  It  is,  I  think,  briefly 
this.  In  sin,  man  rejects  and  defies  the  moral  law.  Punish- 
ment is  pain  inflicted  on  him  because  he  has  done  this,  and 
in  order  that  he  may,  by  the  fact  of  his  punishment,  be  forced 
into  recognizing  as  valid  the  law  which  he  rejected  in  sinning, 
and  so  repent  of  his  sin — really  repent,  and  not  merely  be 
frightened  out  of  doing  it  again. 

Thus  the  object  of  punishment  is  that  the  criminal  should 
repent  of  his  crime  and  by  so  doing  realise  the  moral  character, 
which  has  been  temporarily  obscured  by  his  wrong  action,  but 
which  is,  as  Hegel  asserts,  really  his  truest  and  deepest  nature. 
At  first  sight  this  looks  very  much  like  the  reformatory  theory 
of  punishment  which  Hegel  has  rejected.  But  there  is  a  great 
deal  of  difference  between  them.  The  reformatory  theory  says 
that  we  ought  to  reform  our  criminals  while  we  are  punishing 
them.  Hegel  says  that  punishment,  as  such,  tends  to  reform 
them.  The  reformatory  theory  wishes  to  pain  criminals  as 
little  as  possible,  and  to  improve  them  as  much  as  possible. 
Hegel's  theory  says  that  it  is  the  pain  which  will  improve 
them,  and  therefore,  although  it  looks  on  pain  in  itself  as  an 
evil,  is  by  no  means  anxious  to  spare  it. 

When  Hegel  says,  then,  as  we  saw  above,  that  the  object 
of  punishment  is  not  to  effect  "this  or  that"  good,  we  must  not, 


134  PUNISHMENT 

I  think,  take  him  to  mean  that  we  do  not  look  for  a  good  result 
from  punishment.  We  must  rather  interpret  him  to  mean 
that  it  is  not  in  consequence  of  some  accidental  good  result 
that  punishment  is  to  be  defended,  but  that,  for  the  criminal, 
punishment  is  inherently  good.  The  use  of  "this  or  that"  to 
express  an  accidental  or  contingent  good  seems  in  accordance 
with  Hegel's  usual  terminology.  And  we  must  also  remember 
that  Hegel,  who  hated  many  things,  hated  nothing  more  bitterly 
than  sentimental  humanitarianism,  and  that  he  was  in  con- 
sequence more  inchned  to  emphasise  his  divergence  from  a 
reformatory  theory  of  punishment  than  his  agreement  with  it. 

We  have  thus  reached  a  theory  quite  different  from  any  of 
the  four  which  we  started  this  chapter  by  considering.  It  is 
not  impossible  that  the  world  has  been  acting  on  the  Hegehan 
view  for  many  ages,  but  as  an  exphcit  theory  it  has  found  little 
support.  We  all  recognize  that  a  man  can  be  frightened  into 
or  out  of  a  course  of  action  by  punishment.  We  all  recognize 
that  a  man  can  sometimes  be  reformed  by  influences  applied 
while  he  is  being  punished.  But  can  he  ever  be  reformed 
simply  by  punishment  ?  Repentance  and  reform  involve  either 
that  he  should  see  that  something  was  wrong  which  before  he 
thought  was  right,  or  else  that  the  intensity  of  his  moral  feelings 
should  be  so  strengthened  that  he  is  enabled  to  resist  a  tempta- 
tion, to  which  before  he  yielded.  And  w^hy  should  punishment 
help  him  to  do  either  of  these  things  ? 

142.  There  are  certain  people  who  look  on  all  punishment 
as  essentially  degrading.  They  do  not,  in  their  saner  moods, 
deny  that  there  may  be  cases  in  which  it  is  necessary. 
But  they  think  that,  if  any  one  requires  punishment,  he 
proves  himself  to  be  uninfluenced  by  moral  motives,  and 
only  to  be  governed  by  fear.  (It  is  curious,  by  the  way,  that 
this  school  generally  accepts  the  idea  that  government  by 
rewards  is  legitimate.  It  does  not  appear  why  it  is  less 
degrading  to  be  bribed  into  virtue  than  to  be  frightened  away 
from  vice.)  They  look  on  all  punishment  as  implying  deep 
degradation  in  some  one, — if  it  is  justified,  the  ofiender  must  be 
Uttle  better  than  a  brute;  if  it  is  not  justified,  the  brutahty  is 
in  the  person  who  inflicts  it. 


PUNISHMENT  135 

This  reasoning  appears  to  travel  in  a  circle.  Punishment, 
they  say,  is  degrading,  therefore  it  can  work  no  moral  improve- 
ment. But  this  begs  the  question.  For  if  punishment  could 
work  a  moral  improvement,  it  would  not  degrade  but  elevate. 
The  humanitarian  argument  alternately  proves  that  punishment 
can  only  intimidate  because  it  is  brutalizing,  and  that  it  is 
brutahzing  because  it  can  only  intimidate.  The  real  reason, 
apparently,  of  the  foregone  conviction  which  tries  to  justify 
itself  by  this  argument  is  an  unreasoning  horror  of  the  infliction 
of  pain.  That  pain  is  an  evil  cannot  be  denied.  But,  even  if  it 
were  the  ultimate  evil,  we  could  not  assert  that  it  was  always 
WTong  to  inflict  it.  For  that  would  be  equivalent  to  a 
declaration  that  a  dentist  was  as  criminal  as  a  wife-beater. 
No  one  can  deny  that  the  infliction  of  pain  may  in  the  long 
run  increase  happiness — as  in  the  extraction  of  an  aching  tooth. 
If  pain,  in  spite  of  its  being  evil  fer  se,  can  thus  be  desirable 
as  a  means,  the  general  objection  to  pain  as  a  moral  agent  would 
seem  to  disappear  also. 

143.  Of  course,  there  is  nothing  in  simple  pain,  as  such, 
which  can  lead  to  repentance.  If  I  get  into  a  particular  train, 
and  break  my  leg  in  a  colUsion,  that  cannot  make  me  repent 
my  action  in  going  by  the  train,  though  it  will  very  possibly 
make  me  regret  it.  For  the  pain  in  this  case  was  not  a 
punishment.  It  came,  indeed,  because  I  had  got  into  the 
train,  but  not  because  I  had  done  wrong  in  getting  into  the 
train. 

Hegel's  theory  is  that  punishment,  that  is,  pain  inflicted 
because  the  suft'erer  had  previously  done  wrong,  may  lead  to 
repentance  for  the  crime  which  caused  the  punishment.  We 
have  now  to  consider  whether  this  is  true.  The  thesis  is  not 
that  it  always  produces  repentance — which,  of  course,  is  not  the 
case — but  that  there  is  something  in  its  nature  which  tends 
to  produce  repentance.  And  this,  as  we  have  seen,  is  not  a 
common  theory  of  punishment.  "Men  do  not  become  penitent 
and  learn  to  abhor  themselves  by  having  their  backs  cut  open 
with  the  lash;  rather,  they  learn  to  abhor  the  lash^."  That 
the  principle  expressed  here  is  one  which  often  operates  cannot 
^  George  Eliot,  Felix  Holt,  chap.  xu. 


136  PUNISHMENT 

be  denied.     Can  we  so  far  limit  its  application  that  Hegel's 
theory  shall  also  be  valid? 

We  have  so  far  defined  punishment  as  pain  inflicted  because 
the  sufferer  has  done  wrong.  But  this  definition  is  too  narrow, 
for  it  does  not  include  cases  of  mistaken  punishment.  To  bring 
these  in  we  must  say  that  it  is  pain  inflicted  because  the  person 
who  inflicts  it  thinks  that  the  person  who  suffers  it  has  done 
wrong.  Repentance,  again,  is  the  realisation  by  the  criminal, 
with  sufficient  vividness  to  govern  future  action,  that  he  has 
done  wrong.  Now  is  there  anything  in  the  nature  of  punish- 
ment to  cause  the  conviction  in  the  mind  of  the  judge  to  be 
reproduced  in  the  mind  of  the  culprit?  If  so,  punishment  will 
tend  to  produce  repentance. 

144,  I  submit  that  this  is  the  case  under  certain  conditions. 
When  the  culprit  recognizes  the  punishing  authority  as  one 
which  embodies  the  moral  law,  and  which  has  a  right  to  enforce 
it,  then  punishment  may  lead  to  repentance,  but  not  otherwise. 

Let  us  examine  this  more  closely.  A  person  who  suffers 
punishment  may  conceive  the  authority  which  inflicts  it  to  be 
distinctly  immoral  in  its  tendencies.  In  this  case,  of  course, 
he  will  not  be  moved  to  repent  of  his  action.  The  punishment 
will  appear  to  him  unjust,  to  incur  it  will  be  considered  as  a  duty, 
and  he  will  consider  himself  not  as  a  criminal,  but  as  a  martyr. 
On  the  other  hand,  if  the  punishment  causes  him  to  change  his 
line  of  action,  it  will  be  due,  not  to  repentance,  but  to  cowardice. 

Or,  again,  he  may  not  regard  it  as  distinctly  immoral — as 
punishing  him  for  what  it  is  his  duty  to  do.  But  he  may  regard 
it  as  non-moral — as  punishing  him  for  what  he  had  a  right, 
though  not  a  duty,  to  do.  In  this  case,  too,  punishment  will 
not  lead  to  repentance.  He  will  not  regard  himself  as  a 
martyr,  but  he  will  be  justified  in  regarding  himself  as  a  very 
badly-treated  person.  If  the  punishment  does  cause  him  to 
abstain  from  such  action  in  future,  it  will  not  be  the  result  of 
repentance,  but  of  prudence.  He  will  not  have  come  to  think 
it  wrong,  but  he  may  think  that  it  is  not  worth  the  pain  it  will 
bring  on  him. 

If,  however,  he  regards  the  authority  which  punishes  him 
as  one  which  expresses,  and  which  has  a  right  to  express,  the 


PUNISHMENT  137 

moral  law,  his  attitude  will  be  very  different.  He  wall  no  longer 
regard  his  punishment  either  as  a  martyrdom  or  as  an  injury. 
On  the  contrary  he  will  feel  that  it  is  the  proper  consequence 
of  his  fault.  And  to  feel  this,  and  to  be  able  to  accept  it  as 
such,  is  surely  repentance. 

145.  But  it  may  be  objected  that  this  leads  us  to  a 
dilemma.  The  punishment  cannot  have  this  moral  effect  on 
us,  unless  it  comes  from  an  authority  which  we  recognize  as 
expressing  the  moral  law,  and,  therefore,  as  valid  for  us.  But 
if  we  recognize  this,  how  did  we  ever  come  to  commit  the  sin, 
which  consists  in  a  defiance  of  the  moral  law?  Does  not  the 
existence  of  the  sin  itself  prove  that  we  are  not  in  that 
submissive  position  to  the  moral  law,  and  to  the  power  which 
is  enforcing  it,  which  alone  can  make  the  punishment  a 
purification  ? 

I  do  not  think  that  this  is  the  case.  It  is,  in  the  first  place, 
quite  possible  for  a  recognition  of  the  moral  law  to  exist  which 
is  not  sufl&ciently  strong  to  prevent  our  violating  it  at  the 
suggestion  of  our  passions  or  our  impulses,  but  which  is  yet 
strong  enough,  when  the  punishment  follows,  to  make  us 
recognize  the  justice  of  the  sentence.  After  all,  most  cases  of 
wrong-doing,  which  can  be  treated  as  criminal,  are  cases  of  this 
description,  in  which  a  man  defies  a  moral  law  which  he  knows 
to  be  binding,  because  the  temptations  to  violate  it  are  at  that 
moment  too  strong  for  his  desire  to  do  what  he  knows  to  be 
right.  In  these  cases  the  moral  law  is,  indeed,  recognized — for 
the  offender  knows  he  is  doing  wrong — but  not  recognized  with 
sufficient  strength ;  for,  if  it  was,  he  would  abstain  from  doing 
wrong.  And,  therefore,  the  moral  consciousness  is  strong 
enough  to  accept  the  punishment  as  justly  incurred,  though 
it  was  not  strong  enough  to  prevent  the  offender  from  incurring 
it.  In  this  case,  the  significance  of  the  punishment  is  that  it 
tends  to  produce  that  vividness  in  the  recognition  of  the  moral 
law,  which  the  occurrence  of  the  offence  shows  to  have  been 
previously  wanting.  The  pain  and  coercion  involved  in  punish- 
ment present  the  law  with  much  greater  impressiveness  than 
can,  for  the  mass  of  people,  be  gained  from  a  mere  admission 
that  the  law  is  binding.     On  the  other  hand,  the  fact  that  the 


138  PUNISHMENT 

pain  coincides  with  that  intellectual  recognition,  on  the  part  of 
the  offender,  that  the  law  is  binding,  prevents  the  punishment 
from  having  a  merely  intimidating  effect,  and  makes  it  a  possible 
stage  in  a  moral  advance. 

146.  Besides  these  cases  of  conscious  violation  of  a  moral 
law,  there  are  others  where  men  sincerely  believe  in  a  certain 
principle,  and  yet  systematically  fail  to  see  that  it  applies  in 
certain  cases,  not  because  they  really  think  that  those  cases  are 
exceptions,  but  because  indolence  or  prejudice  has  prevented 
them  from  ever  applying  their  general  principle  to  those 
particular  instances.  Thus  there  have  been  nations  which 
conscientiously  believed  murder  to  be  sinful,  and  yet  fought 
duels  with  a  good  conscience.  If  pressed,  they  would  have 
admitted  a  duel  to  be  an  attempt  to  murder.  But  no  one  ever 
did  press  them,  and  they  never  pressed  themselves.  As  soon 
as  a  set  of  reformers  arose,  who  did  press  the  question,  duels 
were  found  to  be  indefensible,  and  disappeared.  So  for  many 
years  the  United  States  solemnly  afl&i-med  the  right  of  all  men 
to  liberty,  while  slavery  was  legally  recognized.  Yet  they 
would  not  have  denied  that  slaves  were  men. 

When  such  cases  occur  with  a  siiigle  individual,  punishment 
might  here,  also,  tend  to  repentance.  For  it  was  only  possible 
to  accept  the  general  law,  and  reject  the  particular  application, 
by  ignoring  the  unanswerable  question.  Why  do  not  you  in  this 
case  practise  what  you  preach  ?  Now  you  can  ignore  a  question, 
but  you  cannot  ignore  a  punishment,  if  it  is  severe  enough. 
You  cannot  put  it  on  one  side :  you  must  either  assert  that  it 
is  unjust,  or  admit  that  it  is  just.  And  in  the  class  of  cases  we 
have  now  been  considering,  we  have  seen  that  when  the  question 
is  once  asked,  it  must  condemn  the  previous  line  of  action. 
Here,  therefore,  punishment  may  lead  to  repentance. 

147.  A  third  case  is  that  in  which  the  authority  is 
recognized,  but  in  which  it  is  not  known  beforehand  that  it 
disapproved  of  the  act  for  which  the  punishment  is  awarded. 
Here,  therefore,  there  is  no  difficulty  in  seeing  that  recognition 
of  the  authority  is  compatible  with  transgression  of  the  law, 
because  the  law  is  not  known  till  after  it  has  been  transgressed. 
It  may,  perhaps,  be  doubted  whether  it  is  strictly  correct  to  say 


PUNISHMENT  139 

in  this  case  that  punishment  may  lead  to  repentance,  since 
there  is  no  wilful  fault  to  repent,  as  the  law  was,  by  the 
hypothesis,  not  known  at  the  time  it  was  broken.  The  question 
is,  however,  merely  verbal.  There  is  no  doubt  that  in  such 
cases  the  punishment,  coming  from  an  authority  accepted  as 
moral,  may  lead  a  man  to  see  that  he  has  done  wrong,  though 
not  intentionally,  may  lead  him  to  regret  it,  and  to  avoid  it  in 
future.  Thus,  at  any  rate,  a  moral  advance  comes  from  the 
punishment,  and  it  is  of  no  great  importance  whether  we  grant 
or  deny  it  the  name  of  repentance. 

148.  It  may  be  objected,  however,  that  punishment  in  the 
last  two  cases  would  be  totally  unjust.  We  ought  to  punish, 
it  may  be  said,  only  those  acts  which  were  known  by  their 
perpetrators,  at  the  time  they  did  them,  to  be  wrong.  And 
therefore  we  have  no  right  to  punish  a  man  for  any  offence, 
which  he  did  not  know  to  be  an  offence,  whether  because  he 
did  not  know  of  the  existence  of  the  law,  or  because  he  did  not 
apply  it  to  the  particular  case. 

I  do  not  think,  however,  that  we  can  fairly  limit  the  proper 
application  of  punishment  to  cases  of  conscious  wrong-doing, 
plausible  as  such  a  restriction  may  appear  at  first  sight.  We 
must  remember,  in  the  first  place,  that  ignorance  of  a  moral 
law  may  be  a  sign  of  a  worse  moral  state  than  that  which  would 
be  implied  in  its  conscious  violation.  If  a  man  really  beheved 
that  he  was  morally  justified,  in  treating  the  lower  animals 
without  any  consideration,  he  would  not  be  consciously  doing 
wrong  by  torturing  them.  But  we  should,  I  think,  regard  him 
as  in  a  lower  moral  state  than  a  man  who  was  conscious  of  his 
duty  to  animals,  though  he  sometimes  disregarded  it  in  moments 
of  passion.  Yet  the  latter  in  these  moments  would  be  con- 
sciously doing  wrong.  A  man  who  could  see  nothing  wrong 
in  cowardice  would  surely  be  more  degraded  than  one  who 
recognized  the  duty  of  courage,  though  he  sometimes  failed 
to  carry  it  out.  Thus,  I  submit,  even  if  punishment  were 
hmited  to  cases  of  desert,  there  would  be  no  reason  to  limit 
it  to  cases  of  conscious  wrong-doing,  since  the  absence  of  the 
consciousness  of  wrong-doing  may  itself  be  a  mark  of  moral 
defect. 


140  PUNISHMENT 

But  we  may,  I  think,  go  further.  There  seems  no  reason 
why  we  should  enquire  about  any  punishment  whether  the 
criminal  deserved  it.  For  such  a  question  really  brings  us 
back,  if  we  press  it  far  enough,  to  the  old  theory  of  vindictive 
punishment,  which  few  of  those  who  ask  the  question  would  be 
prepared  to  advocate.  On  any  other  theory  a  man  is  to  be 
punished,  not  to  avenge  the  past  evil,  but  to  secure  some  future 
good.  Of  course,  a  punishment  is  only  to  be  inflicted  for  a 
wrong  action,  for  the  effect  of  all  punishment  is  to  discourage 
the  repetition  of  the  action  punished,  and  that  would  not  be 
desirable  unless  the  action  were  wrong.  But  to  enquire  how 
far  the  criminal  is  to  be  blamed  for  his  action  seems  irrelevant. 
If  he  has  done  wrong,  and  if  the  punishment  will  cure  him,  he 
has,  as  Hegel  expresses  it,  a  right  to  his  punishment.  If  a 
dentist  is  asked  to  take  out  an  aching  tooth,  he  does  not  refuse 
to  do  so,  on  the  ground  that  the  patient  did  not  deliberately 
cause  the  toothache,  and  that  therefore  it  would  be  unjust  to 
subject  him  to  the  pain  of  the  extraction.  And  to  refuse  a  man 
the  chance  of  a  moral  advance,  when  the  punishment  appears 
to  afford  one,  seems  equally  unreasonable. 

Indeed,  any  attempt  to  measure  punishment  by  desert  gets 
us  into  hopeless  difficulties.  If  we  suppose  that  every  man  is 
equally  responsible  for  every  action  which  is  not  done  under 
physical  compulsion,  we  ignore  the  effect  of  inherited  character, 
of  difference  of  education,  of  difference  of  temptation,  and,  in 
fact,  of  most  of  the  important  circumstances.  Punishments 
measured  out  on  such  a  system  may,  perhaps,  be  defended  on 
the  ground  of  utility,  but  certainly  not  on  the  ground  of  desert. 
Again,  if  we  did  attempt,  in  fixing  desert,  to  allow  for  different 
circumstances,  desert  would  vanish  altogether.  On  a  deter- 
minist  theory  every  act  is  the  inevitable  result  of  conditions 
existing  before  the  birth  of  the  agent.  If  we  admit  free  will, 
any  responsibility  for  the  past  becomes  unintelligible. 

The  only  alternative  seems  to  be  the  admission  that  we 
punish,  not  to  avenge  evil,  but  to  restore  or  produce  good, 
whether  for  society  or  the  criminal.  And  on  this  principle  we 
very  often  explicitly  act.  For  example,  we  do  not  punish  high 
treason  because  we  blame  the  traitors,  who  are  often  moved  by 


PUNISHMENT  141 

sincere,  though  perhaps  mistaken,  patriotism.  We  punish  it 
because  we  believe  that  they  would  in  fact,  though  with  the 
best  intentions,  do  harm  to  the  state.  Nor  do  parents,  I 
suppose,  punish  young  children  for  disobedience,  on  the  ground 
that  it  is  their  own  fault  that  they  were  not  born  with  the 
habit  of  obedience  developed.  They  do  it,  I  should  imagine, 
because  punishment  is  the  most  effective  way  of  teaching 
them  obedience,  and  because  it  is  desirable  that  they  should 
learn  it. 

149.  We  must  now  return  to  the  cases  in  which  punish- 
ment can  possibly  produce  repentance,  from  which  we  have 
been  diverted  by  the  question  of  the  justice  of  the  punishment 
inflicted  in  the  second  and  third  cases.  There  is  a  fourth  and 
last  case.  In  this  the  authority  which  inflicts  the  punishment 
was,  before  its  infliction,  recognized  faintly  and  vaguely  as 
embodying  the  moral  law,  and  therefore  as  being  a  vahd 
authority.  But  the  recognition  was  so  faint  and  vague  that 
it  was  not  sufficient  to  prevent  disobedience  to  the  authority's 
commands.  This,  it  will  be  seen,  is  rather  analogous  to  the 
second  case.  There  the  law  was  held  so  vaguely  that  the 
logical  applications  of  it  were  never  made.  Here  the  authority 
is  recognized,  but  not  actively  enough  to  influence  conduct. 
It  is  scarcely  so  much  that  the  criminal  recognizes  it,  as  that 
he  is  not  prepared  to  deny  it. 

Here  the  effect  of  punishment  may  again  be  repentance. 
For  punishment  renders  it  impossible  any  longer  to  ignore  the 
authority,  and  it  is,  by  the  hypothesis,  only  by  ignoring  it  that 
it  can  be  disobeyed.  The  punishment  clearly  proves  that  the 
authority  is  in  possession  of  the  power.  If  it  is  pressed  far 
enough,  there  are  only  two  alternatives — definitely  to  rebel 
and  declare  the  punishment  to  be  unjust,  or  definitely  to 
submit  and  acknowledge  it  to  be  righteous.  The  first  is 
impossible  here,  for  the  criminal  is  not  prepared  definitely  to 
reject  the  authority.     There  remains  therefore  only  the  second. 

Perhaps  the  best  example  of  this  state  of  things  may  be 
found  in  the  attitude  of  the  lower  boys  of  a  public  school 
towards  the  authority  of  the  masters.  Their  conviction  that 
this  is  a  lawful  and  valid  authority  does  not  influence  them 


142  PUNISHMENT 

to  so  great  an  extent  as  to  produce  spontaneous  and  invariable 
obedience.  But  it  is,  I  think,  sufficient  to  prevent  them  from 
considering  the  enforcement  of  obedience  by  punishment  as 
unjust,  except  in  the  cases  where  their  own  code  of  morality 
comes  explicitly  in  conflict  with  the  official  code — cases  which 
are  not  very  frequent.  In  fact,  almost  all  English  school 
systems  would  break  down  completely,  if  they  trusted  to  their 
punishments  being  severe  enough  to  produce  obedience  by  fear. 
Their  continued  existence  seems  important  evidence  that 
punishment  can  produce  other  effects  than  intimidation, 
unless,  indeed,  any  ingenious  person  should  suggest  that  they 
could  get  on  without  punishment  altogether. 

150.  We  have  now  seen  that  when  punishment  is  able 
to  fulfil  the  office  which  Hegel  declares  to  be  its  highest 
function — that  of  producing  repentance — it  does  so  by  em- 
phasising some  moral  tie  which  the  offender  was  all  along 
prepared  to  admit,  although  it  was  too  faint  or  incomplete 
to  prevent  the  fault.  Thus  it  essentially  works  on  him  as, 
at  any  rate  potentially,  a  moral  agent,  and  thus,  as  Hegel 
expresses  it,  does  him  honour.  It  is  no  contradiction  of  this, 
though  it  may  appear  so  at  first  sight,  to  say  that  a  punish- 
ment has  such  an  effect  only  by  the  element  of  disgrace  which 
all  deserved  punishment  contains.  The  deterrent  effect  is 
different.  A  punishment  deters  from  the  repetition  of  the 
offence,  not  because  it  is  a  punishment,  but  because  it  is 
painful.  An  unpleasant  consequence  which  followed  the  act, 
not  as  the  result  of  moral  condemnation,  but  as  a  merely 
natural  effect,  would  have  the  same  deterrent  result.  A  man 
is  equally  frightened  by  pain,  whether  he  recognizes  it  as  just 
or  not.  And  so  a  punishment  may  deter  from  crime  quite  as 
effectually  when  it  is  not  recognized  as  just,  and  consequently 
produces  no  feeling  of  disgrace.  But  a  punishment  cannot  lead 
to  repentance  unless  it  is  recognized  as  the  fitting  consequence 
of  a  moral  fault,  and  it  is  this  recognition  which  makes  a 
punishment  appear  disgraceful. 

151.  It  is  sometimes  maintained  that  it  is  undesirable 
to  attempt  to  emphasise  the  element  of  disgrace  in  punishment, 
especially  in  the  education  of  children.     We  are  recommended 


PUNISHMENT  143 

to  trust  principally  to  rewards,  and  if  we  should  unhappily  be 
forced  to  inflict  pain,  we  must  represent  it  rather  as  an  in- 
convenience which  it  would  be  well  to  avoid  for  the  future, 
than  as  a  punishment  for  an  offence  which  deserved  it.  And 
for  this  reason  all  punishments,  which  proclaim  themselves  to 
be  such,  are  to  be  avoided. 

It  seems  to  me  that  to  trust  to  the  influence  of  the 
pleasures  of  rewards,  and  of  the  pain  of  punishments,  implies 
that  the  person  to  be  influenced  is  governed  by  pleasure 
and  pain.  On  the  other  hand,  to  trust  to  the  fact  that  his 
punishment  will  appear  a  disgrace  to  him  implies  that  he  is, 
to  some  degree,  influenced  by  a  desire  to  do  right;  for  other- 
wise he  would  feel  no  disgrace  in  a  punishment  for  doing 
wrong.  And  this  second  view  of  human  nature  is,  at  any 
rate,  the  more  cheerful  of  the  two. 

It  is  necessary  to  distinguish  between  degradation  and 
disgrace.  A  man  is  degraded  by  anything  which  lowers  his 
moral  nature.  A  punishment  which  does  this  would  of 
course  be  so  far  undesirable.  But  he  is  disgraced  by  being 
made  conscious  of  a  moral  defect.  And  to  become  con- 
scious of  a  defect  is  not  to  incur  a  new  one.  It  is  rather 
the  most  hopeful  chance  of  escaping  from  the  old  one.  It 
can  scarcely  be  seriously  maintained  that,  if  a  fault  has  been 
committed,  the  offender  is  further  degraded  by  becoming 
ashamed  of  it. 

This  confusion  seems  to  be  at  the  root  of  the  controversy 
as  to  whether  the  corporal  punishment  of  children  is  degrading. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  it  expresses,  more  unmistakeably  and 
emphatically  than  any  substitute  that  has  been  proposed  for 
it,  the  fact  that  it  is  a  punishment.  It  follows  that,  unless  the 
offender  is  entirely  regardless  of  the  opinions  of  the  authority 
above  him,  it  is  more  calculated  than  other  punishments 
to  cause  a  feeling  of  disgrace.  But,  supposing  it  to  be  inflicted 
on  the  right  occasions,  this  is  surely  an  advantage  in  a  punish- 
ment. That  it  produces  any  degradation  is  entirely  a  separate 
assertion,  which  demands  a  separate  proof — a  demand  which  it 
would  be  difiicult  to  gratify. 

152.     But  although  a  punishment  must,  to  fulfil  its  highest 


144  PUNISHMENT 

end,  be  disgraceful,  it  does  not  foUow  that  we  can  safely  trust 
to  the  disgrace  involved  in  the  offence  itself  as  a  punishment — 
a  course  which  is  sometimes  recommended.  The  aim  of  punish- 
ment is  rather  to  produce  repentance,  and,  as  a  means  to  it, 
disgrace.  If  we  contented  ourselves  with  using  as  a  punish- 
ment whatever  feeling  of  disgrace  arose  independently  in  the 
culprit's  mind,  the  result  would  be  that  we  should  only  affect 
those  who  were  already  conscious  of  their  fault,  and  so  required 
punishment  least,  while  those  who  were  impenitent,  and  so 
required  it  most,  would  escape  altogether.  We  require,  there- 
fore, a  punishment  which  will  produce  disgrace  where  it  is  not, 
not  merely  utihze  it  where  it  is.  Otherwise  we  should  not 
only  distribute  our  punishments  precisely  in  the  wrong  fashion, 
but  we  should  also  ofier  a  premium  on  callousness  and  im- 
penitence. As  a  matter  of  prudence  it  is  as  well  to  make  sure 
that  the  offender,  if  he  refuses  to  allow  his  punishment  to  be 
profitable  to  him,  shall  at  any  rate  find  it  painful. 

And  in  this  connection  we  must  also  remember  that  the 
feeling  of  disgrace  which  ensues  on  punishment  need  be 
nothing  more  introspective  or  morbid  than  a  simple  recognition 
that  the  punishment  was  deserved.  On  the  other  hand,  an 
attempt  to  influence  any  one — especially  children — by  causing 
them  to  reflect  on  the  disgrace  involved  in  the  fault  itself,  must 
lead  to  an  habitual  self-contemplation,  the  results  of  which  are 
not  unlikely  to  be  both  unwholesome  to  the  penitents,  and 
offensive  to  their  friends. 

153.  I  have  thus  endeavoured  to  show  that  there  are 
certain  conditions  under  which  punishment  can  perform  the 
work  which  Hegel  assigns  to  it.  The  question  then  arises. 
When  are  these  conditions  reahsed?  We  find  the  question 
of  punishment  prominent  in  jurisprudence  and  in  education. 
It  is  found  also  in  theology,  in  so  far  as  the  course  of  the 
world  is  believed  to  be  so  ordered  as  to  punish  sin.  Now  it 
seems  to  me  that  Hegel's  view  of  punishment  cannot  properly 
be  applied  in  jurisprudence,  and  that  his  chief  mistake  regard- 
ing it  lay  in  supposing  that  it  could. 

In  the  first  place,  the  paramount  object  of  punishment  from 
the  point  of  view  of  the  state  ought,  I  conceive,  to  be  the 


PUNISHMENT  145 

prevention  of  crime,  and  not  the  reformation  of  the  criminal. 
The  interests  of  the  innocent  are  to  be  preferred  to  those  of 
the  guilty — for  there  are  more  of  them.  And  the  deterrent 
effect  of  punishment  is  far  more  certain  than  its  purifying 
effect.  (I  use  the  word  purifying  to  describe  the  eff'ect  of 
which  Hegel  treats.  It  is,  I  fear,  rather  stilted,  but  the  word 
reformatory,  which  would  be  more  suitable,  has  by  common 
consent  been  appropriated  to  a  different  theory.)  We  cannot, 
indeed,  eradicate  crime,  but  experience  has  shown  that  by 
severe  and  judicious  punishment  we  can  diminish  it  to  an 
enormous  extent.  On  the  other  hand,  punishment  can  only 
purify  by  appealing  to  the  moral  nature  of  the  culprit.  This 
may  be  always  latent,  but  is  sometimes  far  too  latent  for  us  to 
succeed  in  arousing  it.  Moreover  the  deterrent  effect  of  a 
punishment  acts  not  only  on  the  criminal  who  suffers  it,  but 
on  all  who  realise  that  they  will  suft'er  it  if  they  commit  a 
similar  offence.  The  purifying  influence  can  act  only  on  those 
who  suff'er  the  punishment.  From  these  reasons  it  would  appear 
that  if  the  state  allow^s  its  attention  to  be  distracted  in  the 
humble  task  of  frightening  criminals  from  crime,  by  the  higher 
ambition  of  converting  them  to  virtue,  it  is  likely  to  fail  in 
both,  and  so  in  its  fundamental  object  of  diminishing  crime. 

154.  And  in  addition  there  seems  grave  reason  to  doubt 
whether,  in  a  modern  state,  the  crimes  dealt  with  and  the 
attitude  of  the  criminal  to  the  community  are  such  that 
punishment  can  be  expected  to  lead  to  repentance.  The  crimes 
with  which  a  state  has  to  deal  may  be  divided  into  two  classes. 
The  first  and  smaller  class  is  that  in  which  the  state,  for  its 
own  welfare,  endeavours  to  suppress  by  punishment  conduct 
which  is  actuated  by  conscientious  convictions  of  duty — as  is 
often  the  case  with  high  treason.  Now  in  these  cases  the 
criminal  has  deliberately  adopted  a  different  view  of  his  duty 
to  that  entertained  by  the  state.  He  is  not  likely,  therefore, 
to  be  induced  to  repent  of  his  act  by  a  punishment  which  can 
teach  him  nothing,  except  that  he  and  the  state  disagree  in 
their  views  of  his  duty — which  he  knew  before.  His  punish- 
ment may  be  resented  by  him  as  unjust  persecution,  or  may  be 
accepted  as  the  inevitable  result  of  difference  of  opinion,  but 

MCT.  10 


146  PUNISHMENT 

can  never  be  admitted  by  him  as  justly  deserved  by  his  action, 
and  cannot  therefore  change  the  way  in  which  he  regards  that 
action. 

155.  In  the  second,  and  much  larger,  class  of  criminal 
offences,  the  same  result  happens,  though  from  very  different 
reasons.  The  average  criminal  convicted  of  theft  or  violence 
is,  no  doubt,  like  all  of  us,  in  his  essential  nature,  a  distinctly 
moral  being.  And,  even  in  action,  the  vast  majority  of  such 
criminals  are  far  from  being  totally  depraved.  But  by  the 
time  a  man  has  become  subject  to  the  criminal  law  for  any 
offence,  he  has  generally  become  so  far  callous,  with  regard  to 
that  particular  crime,  that  his  punishment  will  not  bring  about 
his  repentance.  The  average  burglar  may  clearly  learn  from 
his  sentence  that  the  state  objects  to  burglary.  He  might  even, 
if  pressed,  admit  that  the  state  was,  from  an  objective  point  of 
view,  more  likely  to  be  right  than  he  was.  But,  although  he 
may  have  a  sincere  objection  to  murder,  he  is  probably  in  a 
condition  where  the  state's  disapproval  of  his  offences  with 
regard  to  property  will  rouse  no  moral  remorse  in  him.  In 
such  a  case  repentance  is  not  possible.  Punishment  can,  under 
the  circumstances  I  have  mentioned  above,  convince  us  that  we 
have  done  wrong.  But  it  cannot  inspire  us  with  the  desire  to 
do  right.  The  existence  of  this  is  assumed  when  we  punish 
with  a  view  to  the  purification  of  the  offender,  and  it  is  for 
this  reason  that  the  punishment,  as  Hegel  says,  honours  him. 
Where  the  desire  to  do  right  is,  at  any  rate  as  regards  one  field 
of  action,  hopelessly  dormant,  punishment  must  fall  back  on 
its  lower  office  of  intimidation.  And  this  would  happen  with  a 
large  proportion  of  those  offences  which  are  dealt  with  by  the 
criminal  law. 

156.  Many  offences,  no  doubt — especially  those  committed 
in  a  moment  of  passion,  or  by  persons  till  then  innocent — are 
not  of  this  sort,  but  do  co-exist  with  a  general  desire  to  do  right, 
which  has  been  overpowered  by  a  particular  temptation.  Yet 
I  doubt  if,  at  the  present  day,  repentance  in  such  cases  would 
often  result  from  punishment  by  the  state.  If  the  criminal's 
independent  moral  will  was  sufficiently  strong,  he  would,  when 
the  particular  temptation  was  removed,  repent  without  the  aid 


PUNISHMENT  147 

of  punishment.  If  it  was  not  sufficiently  strong,  I  doubt  if  the 
punishment  would  much  aid  it.  The  function  in  this  respect 
of  punishment  was,  as  we  have  seen,  to  enforce  on  the  offender 
the  disapproval  with  which  his  action  was  considered  by  an 
authority,  whom  he  regarded  as  expressing  the  moral  law. 
But  why  should  the  modern  citizen  regard  the  state  as 
expressing  the  moral  law  ?  He  does  not  regard  it  as  something 
above  and  superior  to  himself,  as  the  ancient  citizen  regarded 
his  city,  as  the  child  regards  his  parent,  or  the  religious  man 
his  God.  The  development  of  individual  conscience  and 
responsibility  has  been  too  great  for  such  an  attitude.  The 
state  is  now  for  him  an  aggregate  of  men  like  himself.  He 
regards  obedience  to  it,  within  certain  limits,  as  a  duty.  But 
this  is  because  matters  which  concern  the  whole  community 
are  matters  on  which  the  whole  community  is  entitled  to  speak. 
It  does  not  rest  on  any  belief  that  the  state  can  become  the 
interpreter  of  the  moral  law  for  the  individual,  so  that  his 
moral  duty  lies  in  conforming  his  views  to  its  precepts.  Not 
only  does  he  not  feel  bound,  but  he  does  not  feel  entitled, 
to  surrender  in  this  way  his  moral  independence.  He  must 
determine  for  himself  what  he  is  himself  to  hold  as  right  and 
wrong.  The  result  of  this  is  that,  if  he  sees  for  himself  that 
his  action  was  wrong,  he  will  repent  without  waiting  for  the 
state  to  tell  him  so,  and,  if  he  does  not  see  it  for  himself,  the 
opinion  of  the  state  will  not  convince  him.  I  do  not  assert  that 
there  are  no  cases  in  which  a  man  finds  himself  in  the  same 
childlike  relation  to  the  state  as  was  possible  in  classical  times, 
but  they  are  too  few  to  be  of  material  importance.  And  except 
in  such  cases  we  cannot  expect  the  punishments  of  jurisprudence 
to  have  a  purifying  effect. 

157.  Hegel's  mistake,  in  applying  his  conception  of 
punishment  to  criminal  law,  resulted  from  his  high  opinion  of 
the  state  as  against  the  individual  citizen.  The  most  significant 
feature  of  all  his  writings  on  the  metaphysics  of  society  is  the 
low  place  that  he  gives  to  the  conscience  and  opinions  of  the 
individual.  He  was  irritated — not  without  cause — ^at  the 
follies  of  the  writers  who  see  nothing  in  morality  but  con- 
scientious convictions,  or  "the  good  will."     But  he  did  not 

10—2 


148  PUNISHMENT 

lay  enougli  emphasis  on  the  fact  that,  though  the  approval 
of  conscience  does  not  carry  us  very  far,  by  itself,  towards  a 
satisfactory  system  of  morality,  yet  without  the  approval  of 
the  individual  conscience  no  system  of  morality  can  now  be 
satisfactory.  It  has  become  impossible  for  any  adult  man  to 
yield  up  his  conscience  into  the  hands  of  any  other  man  or  body 
of  men.  A  child,  in  so  far  as  it  is  young  enough  to  be  treated 
entirely  as  a  child,  can  and  ought  to  find  its  morality  in  the 
commands  of  others.  And  those  who  believe  in  a  divine 
revelation  will  naturally  endeavour  to  place  themselves  in  an 
attitude  of  entire  submission  to  what  appears  to  them  to  be 
the  divine  will,  whether  manifested  through  books,  or  through 
some  specially  favoured  organization  of  men.  But  a  man  is 
not  a  child,  and  the  state  is  not  God.  A  man  may  indeed 
accept  the  direction  of  a  teacher  whom  he  has  chosen — even 
accept  it  implicitly.  But  then  this  is  by  virtue  of  his  own  act 
of  choice.  We  cannot  now  accept  any  purely  outward  authority 
as  having,  of  its  own  right,  the  power  of  deciding  for  us  on 
moral  questions. 

158.  Hegel  points  out,  indeed,  in  the  Phenomenology,  that 
the  highest  realisation  of  the  state — that  in  which  it  is  the 
universal  which  completely  sums  up  the  individuals  which 
compose  it — may  be  considered  as  being  in  the  past  or  the 
future,  but  not  in  the  present.  But  when  he  comes  to  deal 
with  the  state  in  detail  he  seems  to  forget  this.  Sometimes  he 
appears  to  think  of  the  classical  state  as  not  yet  passed  away. 
The  ancient  state  did,  indeed,  endeavour  to  stand  in  the  same 
relation  to  its  citizens  as  the  father  to  the  child,  or  even  as  God 
to  man,  as  is  indicated  by  the  very  close  connection  which 
existed  in  the  ancient  world  between  religion  and  patriotism. 
But  to  attempt  to  bring  this  idea  into  the  modern  world  is  to 
ignore  the  enormous  development  of  the  idea  of  individuality, 
which  accompanied,  whether  as  cause  or  effect,  the  rise  of 
Christianity,  and  was  marked  by  the  increasing  prominence 
of  the  ideas  of  immortality  and  conscience.  The  individual 
began  then  to  claim  the  right  of  relating  himself  directly  to 
the  highest  realities  of  the  universe — and,  among  others,  to 
duty.     He  insisted  on  judging  for  himself.     The  state  could  be 


PUNISHMENT  149 

no  longer  the  unquestioned  judge  of  right  and  wrong;  it  could 
now  itself  be  judged  and  condemned  by  the  individual  on  moral 
grounds.  It  had  still  a  claim  to  obedience,  but  not  to  un- 
questioning veneration.  Nor  is  there  anything  inconsistent 
with  this  in  the  authority — perhaps  as  strong  as  that  of  the 
classical  state — which  the  church  exercised  during  the  middle 
ages.  For  the  church  was  regarded  as  a  supernaturally 
commissioned  authority.  It  could  never  have  held  its  position 
if  it  had  been  looked  on  as  an  assembly  of  mere  men.  And  in 
the  course  of  years  it  became  evident  that  even  the  church's 
claim  to  unquestioning  veneration  could  not  stand  before  the 
demand  of  the  individual  to  have  everything  justified  before 
the  tribunal  of  his  own  spirit. 

159.  From  another  point  of  view,  Hegel  may  be  said  to 
have  supposed  that  the  ideal  state  had  already  come,  when  it 
was  still  far  in  the  future.  Indeed  we  may  go  further,  and  say 
that,  by  the  time  the  state  had  become  ideal,  it  would  have 
long  ceased  to  be  a  state.  No  doubt  Hegel  looked  forward, 
and  by  his  philosophical  system  was  justified  in  looking  forward, 
to  an  ultimate  ideal  unity  which  should  realise  all,  and  far 
more  than  all,  that  the  classical  state  had  ever  aimed  at.  He 
contemplated  a  universal  so  thoroughly  realised  in  every 
individual  that  the  most  complete  unity  of  the  whole  should 
be  compatible  with  the  most  complete  self-development  of  the 
parts.  But  before  this  last  and  highest  development  of  reality 
could  be  reached,  we  should  have  to  leave  behind  us  altogether 
the  world  of  matter  and  time,  which  would  be  incompatible 
with  such  a  complete  perfection  of  spirit.  Still  more  would 
it  be  impossible  in  a  stage  of  development  in  which  external 
government  and  criminal  justice  still  existed.  And  to  encourage 
the  actual  state,  as  we  see  it  in  the  world  to-day,  to  assume 
functions  justified  only  in  the  far  past,  or. in  the  remote  future, 
is  disastrous  both  in  theory  and  in  practice.  No  part  of  Hegel's 
teaching  has  been  productive  of  more  confusion  than  his 
persistent  attempt  to  identify  the  kingdom  of  Prussia  with  the 
kingdom  of  Heaven. 

160.  The  result  then,  to  which  we  have  come,  is  as  follows. 
Hegel's  view  of  the  operation  of  punishment  is  one  which  is 


150  PUNISHMENT 

correct  under  certain  circumstances.  And  when  punishment 
has  this  function,  it  is  fulfilling  its  highest  end,  since  only 
in  this  manner  does  it  succeed  in  really  eradicating  the  fault 
which  caused  it.  But  this  function  is  one  which  it  scarcely 
ever  succeeds  in  performing  at  present,  when  administered  in 
the  course  of  criminal  law,  and  which  it  is  not  more  likely  to 
succeed  in  performing  in  the  future. 

This  does  not,  however,  render  it  unimportant.  For, 
although  it  is  disappearing  in  jurisprudence,  it  is  persistent 
and  important  in  education.  There  is  not  the  same  need  in 
education  as  in  law  that  punishment  shall  be  deterrent  at  all 
costs.  The  ordinary  offences  of  children  are  not  very  dangerous 
to  the  structure  of  society,  and  we  can  therefore  turn  our  atten- 
tion, without  much  risk,  rather  to  curing  them  than  suppressing 
them.  And,  as  a  general  rule,  the  decisions  of  the  elder  world 
are  tacitly  accepted  by  the  younger  as  righteous.  In  cases 
where  the  authority  who  inflicts  the  punishment,  or  the  law 
upon  which  it  is  inflicted,  are  explicitly  rejected  as  unjust  by 
the  offender,  we  cannot  hope  that  punishment  will  be  more 
than  deterrent.  But  such  cases  are  infrequent,  and  there  is 
good  reason  to  suppose  that  they  will  remain  so.  For  it  is  a 
fact  which,  though  often  forgotten,  cannot  well  be  denied,  that 
children  are  born  young — a  fact  which  has  some  significance. 


CHAPTER   VI 

SIN 

161.  Hegel's  doctrine  of  Sin  is  complicated,  and  cannot 
be  found  in  any  single  place  in  his  writings.  It  may,  I  believe, 
be  accurately  summed  up  as  follows.  Innocence,  Sin,  and 
Virtue  are  respectively  the  Thesis,  Antithesis,  and  Synthesis 
of  a  triad.  Sin,  again,  may  be  analysed  into  three  subordinate 
terms,  which  also  form  a  triad — Sin  proper.  Retribution,  and 
Amendment.  There  is,  therefore,  if  this  theory  is  correct, 
something  in  the  nature  of  Innocence  which  spontaneously 
produces  Sin,  in  Sin,  which  produces  Retribution,  in  Retribu- 
tion which  produces  Amendment,  and  in  Amendment  which 
produces  Virtue. 

Sin,  then,  is  the  Thesis  in  a  triad  which  forms  the 
Antithesis  of  a  larger  triad.  It  is  thus  both  positive  and 
negative — positive  within  a  limited  sphere,  but  negative  in- 
asmuch as  that  whole  sphere  is  negative.  And  this  does 
justice  to  the  double  nature  of  sin.  All  sin  is  in  one  sense 
positive,  for  it  is  an  affirmation  of  the  sinner's  nature.  When 
I  sin,  I  place  my  own  will  in  a  position  of  supremacy.  This 
shall  be  so,  because  I  will  it  to  be  so,  regardless  of  the  right. 
But  this  right,  which  my  sin  violates,  is  itself  a  far  deeper 
and  truer  reality  than  my  sinful  will.  Indeed  it  is  the  true 
reality  of  that  will  itself.  The  fact  that  I  sin  implies  that 
I  am  amenable  to  the  moral  law.  And  that  means  that  it 
is  my  nature  to  be  virtuous.  If  I  did  not  violate  the  deepest 
law  of  my  own  nature  by  sinning,  it  would  not  be  sin.  And 
thus  my  sin  while  from  one  point  of  view  an  affirmation  of  my 
own  nature,  is  from  a  more  comprehensive  standpoint  a  denial 
of  it.  No  theory  of  sin  can  account  for  all  the  facts  unless  it 
allows  for  both  these  aspects. 


152  sm 

162.  Before  we  consider  the  theory  in  detail^  let  us  enquire 
of  what  species  of  proof  it  is  susceptible.  An  a  priori  proof 
is  impossible.  For  the  subject-matter  to  be  dealt  with  is  not 
exclusively  a  'priori.  It  contains  empirical  elements.  And 
therefore  the  proof  must  itself  be  empirical. 

We  must  not,  then,  demand  for  these  triads  a  demonstration 
of  the  same  nature  as  the  demonstrations  of  the  triads  of  the 
Logic.  For  there  the  terms  were  d  priori,  and  so  were  the 
demonstrations.  Moreover  the  dialectic  method,  as  Hegel  uses 
it  in  the  Logic,  could  not  bring  out  the  results  required  here. 
For  the  result  of  each  of  those  demonstrations  is  to  prove  the 
lower  steps  of  the  process  to  be  inadequate  representations  of 
the  truth,  and  so  to  deprive  them  of  any  absolute  validity 
whatever,  and  reduce  them  to  moments  of  the  higher  term 
which  transcends  them. 

Now  Hegel's  object  is  not  to  prove  that  Innocence  and  Sin 
are  inadequate  expressions  for  a  reality  for  which  Virtue  is  an 
adequate  expression.  He  is  here  speaking  of  a  process  in  time, 
and  his  assertion  is  that  Innocence  produces  Sin,  and  Sin 
produces  Virtue.  Each  of  them  is  a  separate  phenomenon  in 
time,  and,  from  that  point  of  view,  one  is  as  real  as  the  other. 
All  temporal  processes,  no  doubt,  are  based  for  Hegel  on  a 
non-temporal  reality,  but  here  he  is  confining  himself  to  the 
temporal  process.  And  therefore  the  Synthesis,  though  it 
proceeds  from  the  lower  terms,  and  has  a  greater  significance 
than  they  have,  is  not  the  sole  reality  of  those  terms,  as  is 
the  case  in  the  transitions  of  the  Logic,  which,  according  to 
Hegel,  go  deeper  into  the  truth  of  things. 

All  that  Hegel  has  demonstrated  a  'priori  is  the  general 
nature  of  reality.  His  explanations  of  any  empirical  fact,  such 
as  Sin,  must  depend  on  the  degree  in  which  they  succeed  in 
accounting  for  the  phenomena.  We  know  that  Innocence,  Sin, 
and  Virtue  exist.  In  some  way  or  another  they  must  spring 
from  the  general  nature  of  reality,  as  deduced  in  the  Logic. 
In  so  far  as  Hegel's  theory  of  Sin  agrees  both  with  the 
empirical  facts,  and  with  the  conclusions  of  the  Logic,  we 
shall  have  reason  to  think  it  true. 

It  is  clear  that  all  the  evidence  which  can  support  such 


SIN  153 

an  argument  falls  very  far  short  of  demonstration.  But  there 
is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  Hegel  did  not  see  this.  As  I  have 
pointed  out  elsewhere^  there  is  no  trace  of  any  belief  on 
Hegel's  part  that  the  application  which  he  made  of  his  Logic 
shared  the  demonstrative  certainty  which  he  unquestionably 
attributed  to  the  Logic  itself.  He  may  have  been  too  sanguine 
as  to  the  degree  of  certainty  which  could  be  attributed  to 
his  theories  of  ethics,  of  history,  and  of  religion,  but  we  find 
no  assertion  that  their  certainty  is  of  the  same  nature  as  that 
which  is  possessed  by  the  process  of  categories  leading  on  to 
the  Absolute  Idea. 

Before  proceeding  further,  we  must  notice  two  points  which 
will  be  discussed  more  fully  later  on.  In  the  first  place  the 
triad  of  Innocence,  Sin  and  Virtue  is  put  forward  by  Hegel 
as  the  sufiicient  explanation  of  Sin,  but  not  as  the  sufficient 
explanation  of  Virtue.  Sin  never  occurs  except  as  the  Anti- 
thesis of  such  a  triad,  but  Virtue,  as  we  shall  see,  can  occur 
in  other  circumstances,  and  not  only  as  the  Synthesis  of 
Innocence  and  Sin.  In  the  second  place,  Hegel  does  not 
commit  himself  to  the  statement  that,  wherever  Innocence 
is  found,  the  other  terms  must  follow,  but  only  says  that 
there  is  something  in  the  nature  of  each  term  which  terids 
to  bring  on  its  successor.  What  is  the  precise  meaning  of  such 
a  tendency  is  a  question  which  must  be  deferred. 

163.  The  statement  of  the  principal  triad — of  Innocence, 
Sin  and  Virtue — is  to  be  found  in  the  Philosophy  of  Religion. 
The  third  part  of  this  deals  with  the  Absolute  Religion,  and 
is  divided  into  three  sections,  the  second  of  which  deals  with 
the  "Kingdom  of  the  Son."  This  is  again  subdivided,  the 
third  division  being  entitled  "Bestimmung  des  Menschen." 
It  is  in  the  first  half  of  this-  division  that  Hegel  considers 
the  question  now  before  us. 

The  exposition  is  too  condensed  to  adnait  of  further 
abbreviation,  but  the  following  passages  strike  the  key-note : — 
"  The  primary  condition,  of  Man,  which  is  superficially  repre- 
sented as  a  state  of  innocence,  is  the  state  of  nature,  the 

1  Studies  in  the  Hegelian  Dialectic,  Section  207. 

2  op.  cit.  ii.  257—282  (trans,  iii.  45—72). 


154  SIN 

animal  state.  Man  must  (soil)  be  culpable;  in  so  far  as  lie 
is  good,  he  must  not  be  good  as  any  natural  thing  is  good, 
but  his  guilt,  his  will,  must  come  into  play,  it  must  be  possible 
to  impute  moral  acts  to  him.  Guilt  really  means  the  possibiUty 
of  imputation. 

"The  good  man  is  good  along  with  and  by  means  of  his 
will,  and  to  that  extent  because  of  his  guilt  (Schuld).  In- 
nocence (Unschuld)  implies  the  absence  of  will,  the  absence 
of  evil,  and  consequently  the  absence  of  goodness.  Natural 
things  and  the  animals  are  all  good,  but  this  is  a  kind  of 
goodness  which  cannot  be  attributed  to  Man;  in  so  far  as  he 
is  good,  it  must  be  by  the  action  and  consent  of  his  will^." 

"The  animal,  the  stone,  the  plant  is  not  evil;  evil  is  first 
present  within  the  sphere  of  knowledge ;  it  is  the  consciousness 
of  independent  Being,  or  Being-for-self  relatively  to  an  Other, 
but  also  relatively  to  an  Object  which  is  inherently  universal 
in  the  sense  that  it  is  the  Notion,  or  rational  will.  It  is  only 
by  means  of  this  separation  that  I  exist  independently,  for 
myself,  and  it  is  in  this  that  evil  lies.  To  be  evil  means, 
in  an  abstract  sense,  to  isolate  myself;  the  isolation  which 
separates  me  from  the  Universal  represents  the  element  of 
rationality,  the  laws,  the  essential  characteristics  of  Spirit. 
But  it  is  along  with  this  separation  that  Being-for-self  originates, 
and  it  is  only  when  it  appears  that  we  have  the  Spiritual  as 
something  universal,  as  Law,  what  ought  to  be^." 

"The  deepest  need  of  Spirit  consists  in  the  fact  that  the 
opposition  in  the  subject  itself  has  attained  its  imiversal,  i.e. 
its  most  abstract  extreme.  This  is  the  division,  the  sorrow, 
referred  to.  That  these  two  sides  are  not  mutually  exclusive, 
but  constitute  this  contradiction  in  one,  is  what  directly  proves 
the  subject  to  be  an  infinite  force  of  unity;  it  can  bear  this 
contradiction.  This  is  the  formal,  abstract,  but  also  infinite 
energy  of  the  uuity  which  it  possesses. 

"That  which  satisfies  this  need  is  the  consciousness  of 
reconcilement,  the  consciousness  of  the  aboHtion,  of  the  nullity 
of  the  opposition,  the  consciousness  that  this  opposition  is 

^  op.  cit.  ii.  260  (trans,  iii.  48). 
2  op.  cit.  ii.  264  (trans,  iii.  53). 


SIN  155 

not  the  truth,  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  the  truth  consists 
in  reaching  unity  by  the  negation  of  this  opposition,  i.e.,  the 
peace,  the  reconcihation  which  this  need  demands.  Recon- 
ciliation is  the  demand  of  the  subject's  sense  of  need,  and 
is  inherent  in  it  as  being  what  is  infinitely  one,  what  is 
self-identical. 

"This  abolition  of  the  opposition  has  two  sides.  The 
subject  must  come  to  be  conscious  that  this  opposition 
is  not  something  implicit  or  essential,  but  that  the  truth, 
the  inner  reality  {das  Innere),  implies  the  abolition  and 
absorption  of  this  opposition.  Accordingly,  just  because  it 
is  implicitly,  and  from  the  point  of  truth,  done  away  with 
in  something  higher,  the  subject  as  such  in  its  Being-for-self 
can  reach  and  arrive  at  the  abolition  of  this  opposition,  that 
is  to  say,  can  attain  to  peace  or  reconciliation^." 

164.  Innocence,  says  Hegel,  "implies  the  absence  of  will," 
This  must  be  taken  as  a  limit  only.  If  Innocence  is  used  as 
an  attribute  of  conscious  beings,  it  cannot  involve  the  complete 
absence  of  will.  To  suppose  that  knowledge  could  exist 
entirely  separated  from  will  would  be  a  mistake  of  a  kind 
completely  alien  to  Hegel's  system.  But  Innocence,  as  it  is 
used  by  Hegel,  is  clearly  a  matter  of  degree,  and  so  we  can 
say  that,  in  proportion  as  a  conscious  being  is  innocent,  he 
is  devoid  of  w411. 

Now  whatever  is  devoid  of  will  is  in  harmony  with  the 
universe.  It  is  only  purposes  which  can  be  real,  and  yet  out 
of  harmony  with  all  other  reality.  All  facts  (including,  of 
course,  the  existence  of  purposes,  regarded  as  mental  events) 
must  be  compatible  with  one  another.  If  two  asserted  facts 
would  be  incompatible,  we  are  certain  that  one  at  least  of 
them  is  unreal.  Every  fact  therefore  is  compatible  with  every 
other,  and  so  with  the  universe,  which  is  the  unity  of  which 
all  these  facts  are  differentiations.  And  there  is  no  meaning 
in  saying  that  two  compatible  facts  are  inharmonious,  unless 
one  of  them  is,  or  includes,  a  purpose  which  the  other  prevents 
it  from  realising. 

Whatever  is  innocent,  then,  is  in  harmony  with  the  universe. 
^  op.  cit.  ii.  277  (trana.  iii.  67). 


156  sm 

But  this  involves,  for  Hegel,  that  it  is  good.  For  the  uni- 
verse as  a  whole  is  most  emphatically  good  for  Hegel.  He 
has  told  us  that  the  real  is  rational,  and  the  rational  is  real. 
Thus  he  says  that  "natural  things  and  the  animals  are  all 
good." 

Yet  he  also  says  that  innocence  "implies  the  absence  of 
goodness."  In  this  he  refers  no  longer  to  natural  things, 
but  to  man.  It  is  evident  that  a  goodness  which  has  nothing 
to  do  with  the  will  is  not  moral  goodness.  And  a  man  is  not 
properly  called  good  unless  he  is  morally  good.  A  stone  or 
a  cabbage  have  no  possibility  of  will,  and  it  would  be  un- 
reasonable to  deny  their  harmony  with  the  universe  the  name 
of  goodness,  on  the  ground  that  they  do  not  possess  a  good 
will.  But  a  man  has  a  will,  and  so  the  possibility  of  moral 
goodness.  He  is  therefore  to  be  judged  by  a  more  exacting 
standard,  and  Hegel  will  not  call  him  good  if  he  only  pos- 
sesses that  harmony  which  forms  the  goodness  of  beings 
without  will. 

165.  When  a  man  is  virtuous,  he  wills  to  follow  certain 
principles.  These  principles,  according  to  Hegel's  idealism, 
are  the  same  as  those  in  conformity  to  which  the  universe 
works.  And,  this  being  so,  the  virtuous  man,  like  the  innocent 
being,  is  in  harmony  with  the  universe — -but  this  time  in  a 
deeper  harmony.  He  is  in  harmony  with  it,  not  merely  as 
a  part  which  cannot  be  out  of  harmony,  but  as  an  individual 
who  can  propose  to  himself  an  end,  and  who  has  proposed 
to  himself  an  end  which  is  good,  and  therefore,  since  the 
universe  is  good,  in  harmony  with  the  universe.  The  will 
is,  of  course,  part  of  the  universe,  but  it  need  not  be  in 
harmony  with  it.  For  that  is  the  nature  of  will — it  is  a  fact, 
and  causally  determined  by  the  world  of  reality,  and  yet  it 
may  be  so  determined  as  to  postulate  what  the  world  of 
reality  forbids,  and  to  condemn  what  the  world  of  reality 
insists  on.  Where  there  is  will,  there  can  be  discord.  But 
between  a  virtuous  will  and  a  righteous  universe  there  is 
harmony. 

Innocence  and  Virtue  agree,  then,  in  the  fact  that  the 
nature  of  each  of  them  is  good.     But  Innocence  is  merely 


SIN  157 

blindly  determined  to  good  from  the  outside.  Virtue,  on  the 
other  hand,  freely  determines  itself  to  goodness.  (It  is  scarcely 
necessary  to  repeat  that  Hegel's  use  of  the  words  Freedom  and 
Self-determination  has  nothing  to  do  with  what  is  generally 
called  Free-will,  but  refers  simply  to  the  unthwarted  develop- 
ment of  the  internal  nature  of  the  agent.)  The  element  which 
Virtue  has,  and  which  Innocence  lacks,  is  the  individual  and 
his  self-determination. 

166.  There  can  be  no  doubt,  for  a  philosophy  like  Hegel's, 
which  finds  all  reality  to  be  Spirit,  that  Virtue  is  higher  than 
Innocence.  And,  in  that  case,  there  will  be  svb  specie  temporis 
a  process  from  one  to  the  other.  In  what  manner  may  we 
expect  that  this  will  happen? 

We  may  reasonably  hope  that  we  shall  be  able  to  trace 
in  it  a  dialectic  triad.  We  cannot,  for  reasons  which  I  have 
pointed  out  elsewhere^,  be  certain  that  we  shall  be  able  to 
do  so.  But  it  is  at  any  rate  worth  trying.  All  process  is, 
if  Hegel's  philosophy  is  right,  of  a  dialectic  nature,  and,  in 
spite  of  the  complexity  of  all  concrete  phenomena,  we  may  be 
able  to  perceive  it  in  this  particular  case. 

The  nature  of  Virtue  suggests  very  strongly  that  it  may 
turn  out  to  be  a  Synthesis  of  Innocence  with  some  other  term, 
since  it  combines  in  its  unity  an  element  which  Innocence 
possesses,  and  one  in  which  Innocence  is  deficient.  In  that 
case  the  other  term  will  emphasise  the  element  in  which 
Innocence  is  deficient,  while  it  will  unduly  ignore  the  element 
which  is  specially  characteristic  of  Innocence. 

Even  apart  from  the  dialectic,  this  would  not  be  an 
improbable  method  of  progress.  Whether  Hegel's  Logic  be 
correct  or  not,  we  have  only  to  look  round  us  to  see  many 
cases  where  progress  can  only  be  made  by  successively  over- 
estimating each  of  two  complementary  and  partial  truths. 
Not  until  the  falsity  of  the  first  of  these,  taken  in  isolation, 
has  driven  us  on  to  the  second,  and  that  also  has  proved 
unsatisfactory  by  itself,  are  we  in  a  position  to  combine  both 
in  a  reaUy  adequate  manner. 

^  Stvdies  in  the  Hegelian  Dialectic,  chap.  vn. 


158  sm 

167.  Now  if  there  is  such  a  dialectic  process  to  be  traced 
in  this  case,  the  complementary  extreme  will  be  the  self- 
determination  of  the  individual  regardless  of  the  relation  which 
that  determination  bears  to  the  good.  And  thus  we  get  Sin 
as  the  remaining  term  of  the  triad.  For  although  this  random 
self-determination  may  sometimes  cause  me  to  will  something, 
which  it  is,  more  or  less,  desirable  that  I  should  will,  the 
position  would  still  be  morally  wrong.  It  is,  indeed,  the 
essence  of  all  moral  wrong,  because  it  denies  all  difierence 
between  the  wrong  and  the  right.  Not  only  do  1  do  what 
I  will — which  is  a  tautology  when  we  are  dealing  with  volun- 
tary action — but  this  ends  the  matter.  There  is  no  other 
criterion  of  action  except  that  I  will  it.  And  since  all  my 
voluntary  actions  satisfy  this  test,  all  distinctions  of  good  and 
evil  are  swept  away. 

This  position  is  involved  in  all  Sin.  It  is  true  that  a  man 
often  acts  sinfully  with  a  perfectly  clear  intellectual  conviction 
that  there  is  a  moral  law,  and  that  he  is  breaking  it.  But 
in  committing  the  sin,  he  rejects  the  moral  law  practically, 
if  not  theoretically,  and  the  question  is  one  of  practice.  He 
decides  that  for  him,  at  any  rate  at  that  minute,  the  will  to  do 
the  action  shall  be  its  sufficient  justification. 

By  saying  that  this  is  of  the  essence  of  Sin,  we  do  not 
imply  that  nothing  can  be  virtuous,  unless  it  is  done  from  the 
motive  of  being  virtuous.  It  is  quite  possible  to  hold  that 
actions  from  other  motives  are  also  virtuous.  The  position  of 
Sin  lies  in  the  assertion — or  rather  in  the  practical  adoption — 
of  the  maxim  that  my  motives  need  no  other  justification  than 
the  fact  that  they  are  my  motives. 

It  should  be  noted  in  passing  that  such  self-determination 
as  this  can  never  issue  in  conduct  exactly  like  that  which 
would  be  the  result  of  virtue.  A  sinful  motive  may  result, 
no  doubt,  in  action  which  resembles  very  closely  the  action 
which  would  be  taken  in  similar  circumstances  by  an  agent 
who  was  acting  virtuously.  A  dishonest  judge  may  condemn 
for  a  bribe  a  man  who  really  deserves  condemnation.  A 
subscription  to  a  charity,  which  was  given  to  catch  a  title, 
may   be   used   for   the   effective   relief   of   real   misery.     But 


SIN  159 

content  and  form  are  never  without  some  injfluence  on  one 
another.  And  an  action  inspired  by  a  sinful  motive  will  never 
exactly  resemble  an  action  inspired  by  a  virtuous  motive, 
though  they  may,  of  course,  share  some  particular  charac- 
teristic, which  from  some  particular  point  of  view  may  be  the 
only  important  one. 

Sin,  then,  is  the  complementary  moment  to  Innocence. 
And  it  is  clear  that  Innocence  precedes  Sin,  and  does  not 
follow  it.  Innocence  is  therefore  the  Thesis,  and  Sin  the 
Antithesis. 

168.  This  stage  is  the  most  novel,  and  the  most  para- 
doxical, of  the  whole  theory.  The  arguments  for  it,  as  was 
remarked  above,  rely  on  the  fact  that  it  is  consistent  with  the 
general  nature  of  reality,  as  demonstrated  by  Hegel  in  the 
Logic,  and  that  it  is  able  to  explain,  on  the  basis  of  that 
general  nature,  the  existence  of  Sin.  But  we  are  now  in  a 
position  to  notice  that  it  is  only  able  to  explain  the  existence 
of  Sin  on  the  assumption  of  the  existence  of  Evil. 

Evil  is,  of  course,  a  much  wider  conception  than  Sin, 
which  implies  a  conscious  acceptance  of  Evil.  Whatever  is 
imperfect  is  evil.  Innocence  is  therefore  evil  as  much  as  Sin 
is.  Indeed,  it  is  in  one  sense  more  evil,  for  it  is  further  from 
Virtue.  Now  Hegel's  explanation  of  Sin  is  that  it  is  the 
inevitable  transition  from  Innocence  to  Virtue.  But  this  leaves 
unexplained  the  necessity  of  any  progress  towards  Virtue  at 
all.  Why  is  the  first  step  in  the  time-process  anything  so 
imperfect,  and  therefore  so  evil,  as  Innocence?  If  Virtue  is 
the  perfect  state,  why,  in  a  rational  universe,  were  we  not  all 
virtuous  all  along?  Why  do  we  find  ourselves  in  such  a 
position  that  we  have  to  climb  up  to  Virtue  by  means  of  Sin  ? 
This  is  part  of  the  general  question  of  the  origin  of  Evil. 
Hegel's  treatment  of  this  subject  does  not  fall  within  the 
scope  of  this  chapter^. 

169.  It  is  clear  from  the  sections  of  the  Philosophy  of 
Religion  to  which  I  have  referred  that  Hegel  regards  the 
movement  from  Innocence  to  Sin  as  followed  and  completed 
by  a  movement  from  Sin  to  Virtue.     But  the  details  of  this 

^  Cp.  Studies  in  the  Hegelian  Dialectic,  chap.  v. 


160  SIN 

are  not  given  by  him  here.  When,  however,  he  deals,  in  the 
Philosophy  of  Law,  with  the  action  of  the  state  as  regards 
crime,  he  does,  as  we  have  seen,  give  a  triad,  which  in  this 
special  case  leads  from  Sin  to  Virtue.  We  have,  first.  Sin. 
Then,  as  the  Antithesis,  comes  Punishment.  The  result,  in 
which  both  the  assertion  of  self  in  Sin,  and  the  suppression 
of  self  in  Punishment,  are  contained,  is  Repentance^. 

The  relation  of  Punishment  and  Repentance  to  Sin  is  not 
regarded  by  Hegel  as  invented  by  society  for  its  own  advantage, 
but  as  due  to  the  inherent  nature  of  Sin.  It  is  not,  I  think, 
an  unreasonable  inference  to  conclude  that  an  analogous  process 
is  to  be  found  in  the  case  of  those  other  transitions  from  Sin 
to  Virtue  which  are  not  due  to  the  punishments  deliberately 
inflicted  by  other  human  beings,  acting  as  conscious  guardians 
of  right.  Hegel,  so  far  as  I  know,  does  not  state  this  view 
anywhere.  But  his  emphasis,  in  the  Philosophy  of  Law,  on 
the  inevitability  of  the  relation  is  so  strong  that  I  think  we 
are  justified  in  holding  that  he  believed  some  such  relation 
to  exist  in  every  case  of  Sin. 

170.  In  every  case  of  Sin,  then,  there  would  follow  suffer- 
ing consequent  on  it,  and  tending  to  repress  the  self-assertion 
in  which  the  sin  consisted.  And  when  this  had  been  effected, 
the  agent  would  be  in  a  condition  in  which  he  was  freed  from 
his  sin.  It  would,  however,  be  inconvenient  to  use  in  all  cases 
the  terms  Punishment  and  Repentance.  The  common  use  of 
Punishment  confines  it  to  cases  of  suffering  inflicted  by  a 
conscious  being  with  the  explicit  motive  of  counteracting  the 
sin  in  some  way.  And  we  do  not  usually  speak  of  the  effect 
of  Punishment  on  a  man  except  in  cases  where  the  suffering 
is  realised  by  him  to  have  been  inflicted  because  of  a  belief 
that  he  had  sinned.  The  effect  of  a  penalty  which  was  not 
recognized  to  be  meant  as  a  penalty  would  scarcely  be  called 
the  effect  of  Punishment. 

Now  if  we  are  speaking  of  suffering  which  always  follows 
sin,  we  shall  have  to  exclude  these  two  elements.  It  may  be 
true  that  it  always  does  follow.  But  it  certainly  is  not  always 
inflicted  by  other  men  as  a  punishment  for  the  sin,  nor  is  it 

^  Cp.  chap.  V. 


SIN  *  161 

always  recognized  by  the  sinner  as  the  consequence  of  his 
action.  The  word  Punishment  is  therefore  rather  inappro- 
priate, and,  for  this  wider  meaning,  it  might  be  more  suitable 
to  use  Retribution. 

In  the  same  way.  Repentance  is  not  used  except  in  cases 
where  the  sin  is  remembered,  and  expUcitly  regretted.  In  this 
sense  Repentance  cannot  be  an  invariable  step  between  Sin 
and  Virtue,  for  there  are  many  cases  where  our  recovery  from 
a  past  fault  simply  consists  in  the  gradual  development  of  a 
more  healthy  character,  and  where  we  cannot  repent  of  the  sin, 
because  it  is  not  remembered — perhaps,  indeed,  was  never 
recognized  as  a  sin  at  all.  Here  too,  therefore,  we  shall  require 
a  fresh  term.  Now  the  word  Amendment  is  not,  I  think, 
limited,  like  Repentance,  to  a  process  of  whose  ethical  meaning 
the  agent  is  conscious,  and  thus  it  will  be  suitable  for  our 
present  purpose. 

The  sub-triad  of  Sin,  then,  will  be  made  up  of  the  following 
members.  Sin  proper.  Retribution,  and  Amendment.  And  in 
this  way,  as  I  remarked  at  the  beginning  of  the  chapter,  Hegel 
does  justice  both  to  the  positive  and  the  negative  aspects  of 
Sin.  It  is  negative  as  against  Innocence  and  Virtue.  For 
it  consists  in  opposition  to  that  order  of  the  universe  which 
Innocence  blindly  obeys  and  Virtue  freely  accepts.  But  from 
another  point  of  view  Sin,  as  the  assertion  of  the  ultimate 
value  of  the  particular  individual  in  his  particularity,  is 
just  the  unbridled  positive,  which  requires  checking  and 
moderating.  Both  these  characteristics  are  accounted  for 
by  taking  Sin  as  the  Thesis  in  a  triad  which  is  itself  an 
Antithesis. 

171.  But  why,  it  may  be  asked,  does  Retribution  follow, 
or  at  all  events  tend  to  follow,  every  act  of  Sin,  independently 
of  the  conscious  efforts  of  mankind  to  inflict  Punishment? 
The  answer  is  that  the  universe  agrees  with  the  ideals  of 
morality.  In  so  far,  therefore,  as  any  man  seeks  his  good  in 
ends  which  are  incompatible  with  those  ideals,  he  is  placing 
his  will  in  opposition  to  the  principles  which  regulate  the 
world  as  a  whole,  and  which  are  the  deeper  truth  of  his  own 
nature.     And   thus  he   must   be   baffled — either   by   external 

MCT.  *  11 


162  sm 

things,  or,  if  that  should  not  happen,  by  the  internal  discord 
which  his  action  will  produce  in  himself. 

It  is  in  this  second  form  that  the  inevitability  of  Retri- 
bution, and  its  intrinsic  connection  with  sin,  are  most  clearly 
shown.  The  whole  position  of  Sin  is  contradictory,  in  a  way 
which  Hegel's  system  brings  out,  perhaps,  with  greater  clear- 
ness than  any  other.  For  Sin  depends  on  the  emphasis  laid 
on  the  self.  The  attitude  of  the  sitmer  is  that  what  he  wants 
is  of  supreme  importance.  And  he  is  so  far  right,  that  every 
self  is  of  supreme  importance,  and  that  its  claim  to  be  treated 
as  an  end  is  entirely  justifiable.  But,  while  the  sinner  is  right 
in  treating  himself  as  of  supreme  importance,  he  is  wrong  in 
his  conception  of  his  nature.  The  true  self  of  any  man  is 
not  something  which  exists  in  particularity  and  isolation,  and 
which  fiiuds  its  satisfaction  in  the  gratification  of  desires  arising 
from  its  particular  and  isolated  nature.  On  the  contrary  it 
only  exists  in  its  individuaUty  by  reason  of  its  necessary  and 
vital  unity  with  all  other  selves,  and  it  can  only  find  satis- 
faction in  so  far  as  it  places  its  good  in  the  realisation,  by 
means  of  its  individual  nature,  of  that  unity.  The  only  true 
peace  for  the  self  is  to  be  found  in  its  free  self-determination 
to  carry  out  the  purpose  of  the  universe,  since  that  purpose  is 
its  own  deepest  nature ;  and  the  purpose  of  the  universe — the 
universe  which  has  been  demonstrated  to  be  rational — is  in 
accordance  with  the  principles  of  Virtue. 

Thus  Sin  is  a  contradiction,  since  it  at  once  asserts  the 
supreme  value  of  the  self,  and  seeks  satisfaction  in  that  which — 
just  because  the  self  has  supreme  value — can  never  satisfy. 
To  commit  sin  is  very  like  drinking  sea-water  to  quench 
thirst.  And,  like  the  drinking  of  sea-water,  it  requires  no 
external  retribution,  but  brings  about  its  own. 

172.  From  Retribution  follows  Amendment.  If  what  has 
been  said  above  is  correct,  it  follows  that  in  the  long  run  sia 
must  always  disgust  the  person  who  commits  it.  You  have 
only  got  to  go  on  sinning  long  enough  to  have  it  borne  in  on 
you  with  ever  increasing  force  that  it  is  not  in  this  way  that 
true  self-satisfaction  is  to  be  found.  With  a  pessimistic  theory 
of  the  imiverse,  indeed,  it  might  be  possible  to  condemn  certain 


sm  163 

conduct  as  sinful,  and  yet  to  maintain  that  it  yielded  all  the 
satisfaction  which  could  be  got  in  such  a  very  imperfect  world. 
Or  again,  another  theory  might  hold  that  there  was  in  this 
respect  some  fundamental  and  original  difference  between  one 
man  and  another,  so  that  some  of  them  would  find  their  true 
satisfaction  in  sin,  and  would  never  be  deterred  from  it  simply 
by  experience  of  it.  But  neither  of  these  views  is  possible 
for  Hegel.  The  true  nature  of  every  self,  he  maintains,  is 
such  that  it  can  only  find  satisfaction  in  its  own  free  co- 
operation with  the  purpose  of  the  imiverse.  And  so  experience 
will  bring  home  to  it  inevitably  that  it  cannot  find  satisfaction 
in  sin. 

But  is  this  conviction  properly  to  be  called  Amendment? 
We  took  this  term  to  designate  a  state  analogous  to  Re- 
pentance and  indicating  a  moral  improvement.  Can  what 
we  have  reached  be  called  a  moral  improvement,  or  is  it  simply 
the  correction  of  a  miscalculation?  Is  it  anything  more  than 
a  discovery  that  sin  does  not  pay,  and  can  that  be  called  a 
moral  advance? 

There  would,  certainly,  be  no  moral  significance  in  a 
discovery  that  sin  would  fail  to  produce  satisfaction  because 
of  some  external  circumstance  which  has  been  arbitrarily 
attached  to  it.  But  then  this  is  not  what  happens.  It  is 
the  sin  itself  which,  in  the  process  of  Retribution,  loses  the 
charm  which  it  had  hitherto  possessed.  It  had  been  committed 
because  the  agent  imagined  that  he  could  find  satisfaction  in 
it.  It  is  abandoned  because  he  learns  that  he  cannot — just 
because  it  is  sin. 

Now  this  is  a  moral  change.  The  difference  between  a 
vicious  man  and  a  virtuous  man  is  precisely  that  the  former 
finds  his  satisfaction  in  sin,  and  the  latter  in  virtue.  It  is 
impossible  to  eliminate  so  much  reference  to  self  as  is  implied 
in  this.  A  man  need  not  act  for  his  own  pleasure,  nor  for  his 
own  good,  but  he  must  always  act  for  his  own  satisfaction.  And 
thus  no  more  fundamental  expression  could  be  found  for  a 
moral  change  than  the  realisation  that  sin  did  not  and  could  not 
satisfy  the  sinner.  To  stop  sinning  because  some  of  the  con- 
sequences of  sin  are  unsatisfactory  is  simply  prudence.     But  to 

11—2 


164  SIN 

stop  sinning  because  sin  itself  has  become  unsatisfactory  is  to 
become  virtuous. 

To  realise  that  sin  cannot  give  satisfaction  is,  in  itself, 
only  a  negative  result.  Taken  by  itself,  it  might  teach  us 
not  to  sin,  but  could  scarcely  teach  us  to  do  anything  else. 
But  then  it  is  not  taken  by  itself.  It  is  only  an  incident  in 
the  development  of  a  self  which  is  implicitly  moral  all  through, 
though  it  requires  to  be  made  explicitly  so.  In  passing  to  Sin 
from  Innocence  a  man  is  so  far  right — that  he  reahses  the 
supreme  importance  of  himself.  He  has  only  mistaken  what 
his  self  really  is.  And  when  that  mistake  is  corrected,  there 
remains  the  perception  that  the  self  has  to  be  satisfied,  coupled 
with  the  new  perception  that  nothing  wiU  satisfy  us  that  is 
not  virtuous. 

173.  All  this,  it  may  be  objected,  is  not  very  like  the 
Repentance  brought  about  by  Punishment,  of  which  Hegel 
speaks  in  the  Philosophy  of  Law.  For  there  the  Punishment 
is  not  an  inevitable  and  inherent  consequence  of  the  crime, 
but  is  something  which  is  affixed  to  it  by  the  decision  of  the 
law-givers.  Their  decision  indeed  is  not  arbitrary,  but  does 
not  arise  spontaneously  out  of  the  crime.  And,  besides,  the 
Punishment  is  not  the  failure  of  the  crime  to  produce  the 
satisfaction  sought  for,  but  a  distinct  and  independent  evil 
annexed  to  it. 

But  we  must  remember  that  the  effect  of  punishment,  in 
the  triad  described  in  the  last  chapter,  does  not  arise  from 
the  fact  that  it  is  something  unpleasant  which  balances  the 
satisfaction  to  be  expected  from  the  crime.  For  if  this  were 
the  effective  element,  it  is  clear  that  the  result  could  only  be 
deterrent,  and  not  that  which  I  have  called  purifying.  Now 
it  is  the  purifying  effect  of  which  Hegel  is  speaking.  And  the 
work  of  Punishment  in  producing  this  result  is  simply  to  force 
on  the  attention  of  the  criminal  the  fact  that  his  crime 
is  condemned  by  some  moral  authority  which  he  is  not 
prepared  explicitly  to  reject.  The  work  of  Pimishment  is 
thus  to  crush  the  false  independence  of  the  subject,  so  as  to 
give  a  chance  to  the  true  independence  to  manifest  itself. 
And  this  is  just  what  is  done  by  the  inherent  collapse  of  Sin, 


SIN  165 

which  I  have  called  Retribution.  Their  functions  are  thus 
analogous.  It  is  only  in  so  far  as  this  analogy  arises  that 
Hegel  is  interested  in  Punishment  at  all — in  so  far,  that  is, 
as  Punishment  reveals  to  the  criminal  that  the  crime  is  not 
the  outcome  of  his  deepest  nature.  When  the  effect  is  pre- 
ventive, or  merely  deterrent,  or  merely  vindictive,  Hegel  finds 
no  philosophical  meaning  in  it. 

174.  From  Amendment  we  now  pass  to  Virtue.  In  the 
larger  triad  Virtue  is  the  Synthesis  of  Innocence  and  Sin. 
That  it  is  in  its  right  place  here  will  be  seen  from  what 
has  been  already  said.  Innocence  has  the  positive  quality  of 
being  in  harmony  with  the  good.  But  it  has  the  defect  of 
not  being  a  free  self-determination  of  the  individual.  And 
thus  it  is  not  really  in  harmony  with  the  good,  because  it  is 
not  in  harmony  with  it  in  the  way  which  is  appropriate  to 
a  conscious  being.  A  conscious  being,  who  imitates  the  good- 
ness of  a  stone,  is  not  good,  but  bad.  On  the  other  hand  Sin 
has  the  positive  quality  of  being  a  self-determination.  But 
then  it  is  not  in  harmony  with  the  good.  And  the  good  is 
the  essential  nature  of  every  conscious  being.  And  so  Sin 
turns  out  not  to  be  really  an  assertion,  but  a  negation  of  the 
true  individuality  of  the  sinner. 

Thus  each  of  the  two  terms  is  found,  by  means  of  its 
defects,  to  involve  a  contradiction.  Because  Innocence  is  only 
good,  it  is  not  good  but  bad.  Because  Sin  only  asserts 
Individuality,  it  does  not  assert,  but  rather  negates  it.  But 
Virtue  transcends  these  imperfections,  and  therefore  resolves 
these  contradictions.  It  is  really  good,  because  it  is  really 
self-determination.  It  is  really  self-determination,  because  it 
is  really  good. 

175.  If  we  take  into  account  the  sub-triad  of  Sin,  the 
immediate  transition  to  Virtue  will  be  from  Amendment,  which 
is  the  Synthesis  of  the  sub-triad.  The  relation  which  exists 
between  the  Synthesis  of  one  triad  and  the  commencement 
of  the  next  is  expressed  by  Hegel  in  the  formula  that,  in 
passing  from  the  one  to  the  other,  the  notion  "collapses  into 
immediacy." 

It  would  be  difficult  perhaps  to  find  a  clearer  example  of 


166  sm 

such  a  collapse  into  immediacy  tlian  the  transition  from 
Amendment  to  Virtue.  The  phrase  means,  I  think,  that 
whereas  in  the  Synthesis  the  result  gained  is  looked  at  as 
the  result  of  a  process,  as  having  overcome  the  contradictions 
which  had  been  developed  m  the  lower  terms,  in  the  new 
Thesis  it  is  looked  on  as  the  starting-point  of  a  new  process, 
as  something  which  leaves  the  old  contradictions  and  its 
victories  over  them  behind  it,  which  asserts  itself  as  the 
absolute  truth,  and  which  consequently  lays  itself  open — 
except  in  the  case  of  the  Absolute  Idea — to  the  demonstration 
that  it  is  still  imperfect,  and  will  therefore  develop  fresh 
contradictions.  It  may  be  said  that  the  idea  looks,  before  the 
collapse,  to  the  past,  and,  after  it,  to  the  future. 

Such  a  time-reference  must  of  course  be  merely  meta- 
phorical when  we  are  dealing  with  the  transitions  of  the  Logic 
itself.  But  when  we  come  to  the  applications  of  the  dialectic 
to  events  in  the  time-process,  we  may  expect  to  find  it  more 
than  a  metaphor.  And  this  is  just  what  we  do  find  in  this 
particular  case.  Amendment — as  we  see  clearly  in  that  special 
variety  which  is  called  Repentance — can  only  be  defined  with 
reference  to  the  past.  My  nature  is  amended  in  so  far  as  I 
have  got  rid  of  a  sin  which  I  previously  committed.  In  so  far 
as  this  amendment  has  taken  place  I  am  virtuous.  But  it  is 
possible  to  define  Virtue  without  reference  to  past  Sin.  It  is 
the  positive  good  content,  taken  not  as  a  rejection  of  Sin,  but 
as  a  simple  fact. 

176.  We  have  thus  gone  through  the  entire  dialectic 
process  which  leads  from  Innocence  to  Virtue.  It  is  not, 
however,  a  process  which  occurs  only  once  in  each  man.  For 
Innocence  and  Virtue  are  not  single  and  indivisible  qualities. 
They  have  many  aspects.  And  therefore  a  man  may  have 
passed  out  of  the  stage  of  Innocence  in  respect  of  one  of  his 
qualities,  and  not  in  respect  of  another,  and  the  dialectic 
movement  may  therefore  have  to  be  repeated  again,  in  respect 
of  this  latter.  It  is  a  matter  of  every-day  observation  that  a 
man  may  be  in  a  state  of  childlike  submission  to  one  element 
of  morality,  of  explicit  revolt  against  a  second,  and  of  free  and 
reasoned  acquiescence  in  a  third. 


SIN  167 

And  not  only  have  Innocence  and  Virtue  many  aspects,  but 
they  are  also  capable  of  different  degrees.  For  we  saw  above 
that  a  man  could  only  be  more  or  less  innocent,  since  complete 
Innocence  would  require  complete  absence  of  will,  and  would 
therefore  be  impossible  for  any  conscious  being.  It  is  therefore 
possible  that  the  processes  should  only  be  partial.  The  revolt 
in  Sin,  and  consequently  the  reconciliation  in  Virtue,  may  leave 
a  certain  residuum  of  the  blind  submission  of  mere  Innocence, 
which  will  require  to  be  removed  by  a  repetition  of  the 
process. 

177.  We  have  now  to  consider  two  qualifications  to  the 
universality  of  the  formula  we  have  established.  They  were 
mentioned  earlier  in  the  chapter.  The  first  of  these  lies  in 
the  fact  that  Virtue  can  be  increased  otherwise  than  through 
Sin  and  Amendment.  It  often  happens  that  a  man  becomes 
conscious  of  some  imperfection  or  defect  in  his  morality,  and 
forthwith  amends  it,  so  passing  to  a  higher  stage  of  Virtue, 
Indeed,  this  is  often  done  unconsciously.  With  no  deliberate 
resolve,  with  no  knowledge  of  the  process,  a  man  rises,  through 
the  practice  of  virtue,  to  some  higher  level  than  that  to  which 
he  had  previously  attained.  Thus  revolt  and  reconciliation  are 
not  the  only  road  of  moral  advance. 

This,  however,  does  not  at  all  conflict  with  Hegel's  theory. 
Indeed  it  might  have  been  anticipated.  For  he  points  out  in 
his  Logic  that  the  form  of  the  dialectic  changes  gradually  as  we 
move  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  the  process^.  The 
Antithesis  becomes  less  and  less  the  contrary  of  the  Thesis,  and 
more  and  more  a  union  of  the  Thesis  with  its  complementary 
element,  so  that  its  relation  to  the  Thesis  comes  to  resemble 
more  and  more  closely  the  relation  of  a  Synthesis.  The 
advance  from  some  particular  imperfection  no  longer  takes 
place  by  first  emphasising  the  complementary  imperfection, 
and  then  rising  to  a  higher  idea  which  transcends  both.  This 
is  replaced  by  a  direct  advance  from  the  original  imperfection 
to  the  transcending  idea.  The  process  may  be  said  to  come 
nearer  and  nearer  to  a  straight  line,  though  it  never  actually 
becomes  one. 

^  Cp.  Studies  in  the  Hegelian  Dialectic,  chap.  rv. 


168  sm 

We  may  therefore  anticipate,  on  a  'priori  grounds,  what  we 
have  seen  actually  happens.  At  first,  when  Innocence  is  nearly 
complete,  the  advance  can  only  be  upon  the  model  of  the 
transitions  in  the  Doctrine  of  Being.  From  Innocence  we 
must  advance  to  Sin — its  direct  contrary.  Only  after  passing 
through  Sin  can  we  arrive  at  Virtue.  But  as  the  general  moral 
advance — or  possibly  the  advance  in  some  particular  field  of 
morality — progresses,  the  situation  changes,  and  the  transitions 
resemble  those  which  are  to  be  found  in  the  Doctrine  of  the 
Notion.  The  man  has  attained  to  fuller  self-consciousness. 
He  can  recognize  the  imperfection  of  the  degree  of  Virtue  to 
which  he  has  attained  by  simple  reflection.  He  does  not 
require  to  have  its  imperfection  driven  home  by  the  inability 
of  that  standpoint  to  keep  from  passing  over  into  its  opposite. 
He  can  see  that  it  is  imperfect  even  while  he  occupies  it,  and 
is  therefore  able  to  pass  directly  from  it  to  a  higher  one  which 
transcends  it.  It  is,  therefore,  only  when  the  position  of  the 
Thesis  is  relatively  close  to  absolute  Innocence  that  the  process 
which  we  have  sketched  takes  place.  In  proportion  as  the 
Thesis,  in  a  later  stage,  sums  up  many  advances  of  the  past, 
and  so  is  more  virtuous  than  innocent,  furoher  transitions  can 
be  made  without  Sin  and  Amendment. 

178.  The  inherent  necessity  of  the  process,  then,  is  not  for 
Virtue,  since  Virtue  can  be  increased  (though  not  indeed  in  the 
earlier  stages)  without  it.  Hegel  does  regard  the  process  as 
inherently  necessary,  but  only  for  the  other  members.  Where 
there  is  Innocence  there  must  necessarily  follow  Sin,  and  where 
there  is  Sin  there  must  necessarily  follow  Retribution,  Amend- 
ment, and  Virtue. 

179.  But  is  even  this  in  accordance  with  the  facts?  And 
this  question  brings  us  to  the  second  qualification  which  we 
have  to  make.  It  is  quite  clear,  if  we  only  take  individual 
cases,  as  we  see  them  in  this  world  between  birth  and  death, 
that,  though  the  process  often  does  take  place,  it  often  does  not. 
We  have  only  to  look  round  us  to  see  instances  of  Innocence 
which  does  not  pass  into  Sin,  of  Sin  which  does  not  meet  with 
Retribution,  of  Retribution  which  does  not  lead  to  Amendment. 
It  is  impossible  to  suppose  that  Hegel  had   forgotten   this. 


SIN  169 

Whatever  the  philosophical  importance  which  he  attributed 
to  the  facts  of  everyday  life,  his  knowledge  of  them  was 
profound,  and  his  practical  interest  in  them  was  acute.  What 
then  are  we  to  suppose  that  he  believed  about  these  apparent 
exceptions  to  his  theory? 

It  seems  clear  that  he  did  not  believe  in  a  mere  tendency 
which  would  work  itself  out  if  not  checked,  but  which  might  be 
checked  so  that  it  could  not  work  itself  out.  His  language 
indicates  that  he  was  dealing  with  a  process  which  we  were 
entitled  to  say  not  only  might  take  place  but  would  take  place. 
Two  alternatives  remain. 

180.  He  may  have  considered  that  there  was  not  only  a 
tendency,  but  an  actual  and  inevitable  process,  in  the  race  or 
the  universe,  while  in  the  case  of  particular  individuals  there 
was  merely  a  tendency,  which  might  possibly  be  counteracted. 
The  passages  quoted  above,  and  the  rest  of  that  part  of  the 
Philosophy  of  Religion  from  which  they  are  taken,  bear  out  this 
view,  since  Hegel's  attention  seems  devoted  to  the  progress  of 
the  race  as  a  whole,  and  not  of  the  individuals.  Indeed,  he 
shows  everywhere  a  strong  inclination  to  treat  ethical  problems 
as  matters  for  mankind,  and  not  for  this  or  that  man.  He  is 
not  far  from  the  belief — a  belief  it  might  be  difficult  to  defend 
— that,  when  mankind  has  conquered  a  moral  difficulty  in  one 
generation,  all  succeeding  generations  will  enjoy  the  fruits  of 
the  victory  as  fully  as  each  man  does  those  of  his  own  past 
struggles.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  the  indifference  to  the  individual 
shown  in  the  applications  of  the  Logic  stands  in  striking 
contrast  to  the  emphasis  laid  on  individuality  in  the  Logic 
itself. 

181.  But  there  is  another  way  in  which  this  difficulty 
might  be  avoided.  Hegel  believed  in  immortality.  And  he 
might  therefore  have  explained  the  apparent  incomplete  moral 
processes  by  asserting  that  it  was  our  field  of  vision  which  was 
incomplete.  All  the  transitions  in  the  process  require  time. 
And  it  is  only  because  death  has  intervened  too  soon  that,  in 
some  cases.  Innocence  does  not  lead  to  Sin,  Sin  to  Retribution, 
Retribution  to  Amendment,  or  Amendment  to  Virtue.  But 
death  only  stops  our  observation  of  the  process.     It  does  not 


170  SIN 

stop  the  process  itself.  The  Innocence  which  we  see  in  one  Hfe 
may  pass  into  Sin  in  the  next,  and  the  Retribution  which  seems 
fruitless  here  may  produce  Amendment  hereafter. 

It  would  not  be  necessary,  for  the  validity  of  this  ex- 
planation, that  the  events  of  one  life  should  be  remembered 
in  the  next.  For  Retribution,  in  the  sense  in  which  it  has 
been  used  here,  does  not  depend  for  its  efficiency  on  remem- 
brance of  the  Sin,  nor  does  Amendment  depend  on  the 
remembrance  of  Retribution.  All  that  is  required  is  that 
actions  done  on  one  side  of  death  shall  affect  the  character 
on  the  other.  And  this  must  be  so.  If  it  were  not,  there 
would  be  no  identity  of  the  two  existences,  and,  therefore, 
no  immortality. 

It  is  difficult  to  say  which  of  these  two  alternatives  Hegel 
would  have  adopted.  It  is  especially  difficult  to  know  what 
he  would  have  thought  of  the  second,  for,  as  has  been  remarked 
in  chapter  ii,  he  always  declines  to  take  the  slightest  account 
of  the  immortality  in  which  he  professes  to  believe.  On  the 
whole,  it  appears  to  me  more  probable  that  he  would  have 
adopted  the  first  alternative,  and  admitted  that  there  was  only 
a  tendency  in  the  individual,  while  there  was  an  inevitable 
process  in  the  race.  At  the  same  time,  I  cannot  help  thinking 
that  the  other  alternative  might  provide  a  better  solution  in 
the  hands  of  any  Hegelian  who  did  not  share  his  master's 
objection  to  taking  immortality  seriously. 

182.  We  have  now  seen  what  Hegel's  theory  of  Sin  is, 
and  we  have  seen  on  what  basis  a  belief  in  that  theory  must 
rest.  We  have  before  us  the  fact  of  Sin- — the  fact  that  a  being 
who  forms  part  of  the  universe  can  put  himself  in  opposition 
to  the  principles  which  underlie  the  true  nature  of  that 
universe,  and  of  himself  in  particular.  And  we  have  also 
before  us  the  fact  that  such  a  being  is  yet,  from  the  point 
of  view  of  the  very  morality  to  which  he  opposes  himself,  a 
higher  object  in  the  scale  of  values  than  the  stone  or  tree 
which  is  a  perfectly  submissive  instrument  to  the  general 
purpose.  And  besides  these  facts  we  have  the  conclusions  as 
to  the  general  nature  of  reality  which  are  demonstrated  by  the 
Logic.     Our  present  theory  rests  {a)  on  the  consideration  that 


SIN  171 

it  is  not  only  compatible  with  the  conclusions  of  the  Logic, 
but  is  one  which  those  conclusions  would  by  themselves  render 
probable  though  not  certain.  Its  further  support  is  more  or 
less  negative,  since  it  consists  in  (b)  its  claim  to  explain  the 
facts  better  than  any  other  explanation  that  has  been  put 
forward  which  is  compatible  with  the  conclusions  of  the 
Logic. 

183.  The  peculiarity  of  this  theory  is  the  relatively  high 
place  which  it  gives  to  Sin.  There  are  two  other  theories, 
with  which  it  may  be  confounded,  but  it  goes  further  than 
either  of  them.  The  first  is  the  doctrine,  which  is  so  prominent 
in  the  philosophy  of  Leibniz,  that  evil  is  the  condition  of  good, 
since  it  is  impossible  that  good  should  exist  unless  evil  existed 
also.  The  second  is  the  doctrine  that  sin  may  be  made  an 
instrument  of  a  greater  good  than  would  have  existed  without 
it — that  men  may  rise,  not  only  in  spite  of  their  repented  sins, 
but  by  means  of  them. 

Hegel's  position  differs  from  the  first  of  these  in  making 
Sin  not  only  a  necessary  concomitant  of  Virtue,  but  a  necessary 
element  in  it.  All  Virtue  is  based  on  transcended  Sin,  for 
although,  as  we  have  seen.  Virtue  can  advance  in  other  ways 
than  through  Sin,  this  is  only  in  the  higher  and  later  stages. 
The  beginning  of  it  must  always  be  by  such  a  process  as  that 
which  has  been  described  in  this  chapter.  In  thus  making 
transcended  Sin  an  element  in  Virtue,  Hegel's  position  re- 
sembles the  second  theory  mentioned  above.  But  it  differs 
from  it  in  making  the  process  universal  and  necessary.  It  is 
not  merely  that  Sin  may  lead  to  increase  of  Virtue,  and  that 
Virtue  may  be  based  on  Sin.  Hegel's  view  is  that  Sin  must 
lead  to  increase  of  Virtue,  and  that  there  is  no  Virtue  which 
is  not  based  on  Sin. 

184.  The  result  of  this  is  that  moral  evil  and  moral  good 
are  not  absolutely  opposed  for  Hegel,  as  they  are  for  many 
philosophers.  There  can  be  no  absolute  opposition — however 
important  the  relative  opposition  may  be  for  practical  purposes 
— between  two  terms,  one  of  which  is  the  Synthesis  of  the 
other.  And  again,  which  is  perhaps  the  most  paradoxical  part 
of  the  system,  a  man  draws  nearer  to  Virtue  when  he  commits 


172  SIN 

a  sin.  For  Sin,  as  the  second  in  time  of  the  two  stages,  has 
the  advantage  over  Innocence.  In  passing  to  Sin  from  In- 
nocence the  sinner  has  taken  a  step  on  the  only  road  which 
can  lead  him  to  Virtue,  and  morality  has  therefore  gained. 

Ordinary  morality  has  accepted  the  position  that  even  a 
sinful  man  is  higher  than  a  stone,  which  cannot  commit  sin. 
But  many  people  would  regard  the  view  that  a  sinful  man  was 
higher  than  an  innocent  man  as  a  dangerous  falsehood. 

Even  if  Hegel's  position  were  detrimental  to  ordinary 
morality,  it  would  not  be  thereby  refuted.  It  is  true  that 
his  system  leads  us  to  the  conclusion  that  all  reality  is  rational 
and  righteous,  and  that  it  would  be  inconsistent  if  any  part 
of  the  system  led  us  to  a  contrary  conclusion.  But  to  say 
that  it  is  righteous  is  one  thing,  and  to  say  that  it  agrees 
with  our  previous  conceptions  of  morality  is  another.  If  it 
did  not  do  so,  the  fault  might  lie  in  those  conceptions,  and 
not  in  reality.  I  do  not,  however,  believe  that  in  the  accept- 
ance of  Hegel's  doctrine  of  Sin  any  change  in  the  ordinary 
canons  of  morality  would  be  logically  involved,  or  that 
any  logical  ground  would  arise  for  disobedience  to  those 
canons. 

185.  It  may  be  said,  perhaps,  that  the  consideration  that 
a  sin  marks  a  moral  advance  on  the  state  of  innocence  would 
be  a  ground  for  disregarding  the  sinful  nature  of  an  act  to 
the  commission  of  which  we  were  tempted.  But  an  argument 
of  this  nature  would,  I  think,  be  sophistical.  It  is  not  true 
that  under  all  circumstances  a  sin  would  mark  a  moral 
advance.  It  would  not  do  so  in  any  case  in  which  the 
result — the  state  of  Virtue — had  been  already  reached,  or  in 
which  we  could  reach  it  without  sinning.  It  is  only  when 
we  are  in  such  a  stage  of  relatively  rudimentary  Innocence 
that  we  cannot  advance  except  by  negation,  that  the  sin  is 
indispensable  to  the  gaining  of  Virtue,  and  so  is  a  moral 
advance. 

Now  how  can  I  know  that  I  am,  at  a  particular  time,  and 
with  regard  to  a  particular  virtue,  in  such  a  state?  It  seems 
to  me  that  I  could  know  it  only  by  experience.  I  cannot  be 
certain  that  I  am  unable  to  resist  temptation  except  by  finding 


SIN  173 

that^  iu  fact,  I  do  not  resist  it.  Thus  it  follows  that,  until  my 
sin  has  been  committed,  I  can  never  know  it  to  be  a  necessary- 
step  to  virtue,  and  therefore  to  be  a  moral  advance.  And  thus 
the  knowledge  that  it  would  be  a  moral  advance  can  never  be  a 
factor  in  determining  me  to  commit  it. 

And,  again,  in  proportion  as  my  knowledge  of  my  own 
character  showed  me  a  probability  more  or  less  approximating 
to  a  certainty  that  advance  in  the  case  in  question  was  only 
possible  through  sin,  what  would  this  amount  to  ?  To  a  belief, 
more  or  less  certain,  that  I  could  not  resist  the  temptation. 
For,  if  I  could  resist  it,  it  would  prove  that  I  was  no  longer  on 
the  level  of  mere  Innocence,  but  had  risen  to  Virtue.  I  should 
therefore  only  have  ground  to  believe  that  it  would  be  good  to 
commit  the  sin,  in  proportion  as  I  was  convinced  it  was  in- 
evitable that  I  should  commit  it.  And  thus  our  theory  could 
have  no  effect  in  deciding  my  action,  since  it  could  only  make 
me  regard  a  sin  as  an  advance  in  a  case  in  which  I  considered 
my  action  as  already  certain. 

On  this  theory,  indeed,  I  can  always  say  to  myself,  when 
tempted,  "  If  I  yield  to  this  temptation,  my  sin  will  be  a  moral 
advance."  But  it  will  be  equally  true  to  say,  "If  I  do  not 
yield  to  it,  then  my  resistance  will  be  a  moral  advance."  And 
thus  there  is  no  ground  here  for  choosing  either  course.  To 
suppose  that  there  was  a  ground  for  either  would  be  to  fall  into 
the  same  fallacy  as  that  which  asserts  that  Determinism  must 
destroy  all  resistance  to  temptation,  because  a  Determinist 
believes  that,  if  he  did  commit  the  sin,  it  would  be  eternally 
necessary  that  he  should  commit  it. 

186.  Thus  Hegel's  theory  ofiers  no  logical  ground  for 
choosing  sin  rather  than  virtue.  And  it  must  also  be  re- 
membered that  it  is  not  sin  alone  which  forms  the  moral 
advance,  but  sin  which  is  followed  by  retribution  and  amend- 
ment. This  makes  a  considerable  difference  in  the  psychological 
effect  of  the  belief.  Should  a  schoolboy  be  convinced  that,  if 
he  played  truant,  playing  truant  would  be  morally  healthy  for 
him,  it  would  be  illogical,  but  perhaps  not  unnatural,  that  he 
should  take  this  as  an  argument  for  doing  so.  But  if  he  were 
told  that  his  moral  advantage  would  consist  in  the  fact  that 


174  SIN 

the  ofience  would  bring  on  a  punishment  sufficiently  efiective 
to  cure  him  of  any  tendency  to  repeat  the  fault,  it  is  not 
probable  that  the  theory  would  make  the  temptation  any 
greater  than  it  had  been  before  the  metaphysical  question 
was  raised. 

187.  It  is  true  that  this  theory  does  not  lend  itself  to  the 
deification  of  Virtue — it  would  scarcely  be  Hegel's  if  it  did.  It 
does  not  permit  us  to  regard  the  difference  between  Virtue  and 
Sin  as  the  fundamental  difference  of  the  universe,  for  there  are 
conditions  much  worse  than  Sin.  Nor  is  it  an  ultimate  dijSer- 
ence,  for  the  whole  meaning  of  Sin  is  that  it  is  a  stage  which 
leads  on  to  Virtue,  and  a  moment  which  is  transcended  in  it. 
Hegel  goes  even  further  than  this.  For  even  Virtue  is  only  a 
moment  in  a  still  higher  perfection^.  And  again,  whatever 
does  happen  to  a  moral  being,  whether  it  be  Sin  or  Virtue,  is, 
when  it  happens,  a  moral  advance. 

Such  results  are  not  adapted  for  moral  declamations,  but  it 
may  be  doubted  if  they  have  any  more  serious  defect.  If  a 
man  feels  Virtue  to  be  a  greater  good  for  him  than  Sin,  he  will 
choose  Virtue  and  reject  Sin,  even  though  he  should  think  that 
Sin  is  not  wholly  bad,  nor  the  worst  possible  state.  All  that  is 
required  of  a  theory  of  Sin,  therefore,  in  order  that  it  may  be 
harmless  to  morality,  is  that  it  should  not  deny  the  difference 
between  Virtue  and  Sin,  or  assert  that  Sin  is  the  greater  good 
of  the  two.  Hegel's  theory  does  not  do  either.  To  go  further, 
and  to  condemn  Sin  as  absolutely  and  positively  bad,  is  useless 
to  morality,  and  fatal  to  religion^. 

188.  We  may  notice  that  this  theory  provides  a  justifica- 
tion for  a  belief  which  has  flourished  for  a  long  period,  especially 
in  the  English  race,  without  any  metaphysical  support.  It  has 
very  commonly  been  held  that  it  is  desirable  that  children 
should  do  certain  things,  for  which,  when  they  have  done  them, 
it  is  desirable  that  they  should  be  punished.  On  most  ethical 
theories  this  appears  to  be  hopelessly  unreasonable.  Either, 
it  is  said,  an  act  deserves  punishment,  and  then  it  ought  not 

^  To  consider  this  point  would  be  beyond  the  limits  of  the  present  chapter. 
Cp.  chap.  IX. ;  also  Studies  in  the  Hegelian  Dialectic,  Sections  202 — 206. 
^  Cp.  Appearance  and  Reality,  chap.  xxv.  p.  440. 


SIN  175 

to  be  done,  or  else  it  ought  to  be  done,  and  then  it  cannot 
deserve  punishment.  Some  systems  of  education  accept  the 
first  alternative,  and  some  the  second,  but  they  agree  in 
rejecting  the  hypothesis  that  both  the  acts  and  their  punish- 
ment could  be  desirable.  In  spite  of  this,  however,  the  old 
view  continues  to  be  held,  and  to  be  acted  on,  perhaps,  by  some 
who  do  not  explicitly  hold  it. 

If  we  follow  Hegel,  we  may  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
unreflective  opinion  qf  the  race  has,  either  by  chance  or  by  a 
judicious  common  sense,  grasped  the  truth  with  more  success 
than  its  critics.  For  it  is  evident  that  children,  in  relation  to 
the  morality  of  adults,  are  very  often  exactly  in  the  position 
which  Hegel  calls  Innocence.  And  it  may  therefore  be  antici- 
pated that,  in  the  majority  of  cases,  they  will  rise  to  that 
morality  most  simply  and  completely  by  the  process  of  alternate 
defiance  and  suppression. 

Such  words  as  Sin,  Retribution,  and  Amendment  seem,  no 
doubt,  unduly  serious  and  pompous  in  this  connection.  But  it 
must  be  remembered  that  we  are  watching  the  process  from 
the  standpoint  of  the  Synthesis  in  a  way  which  is  seldom,  if 
ever,  possible  when  we  are  observing  the  struggles  of  our  fellow 
adults.  (It  is  to  this  exceptional  point  of  observation,  I  suppose, 
that  we  must  ascribe  the  fact  that  many  people  who  would 
shrink  from  recognizing  a  moral  advance  in  a  night's  drunken- 
ness are  quite  able  to  see  a  moral  advance  in  a  forbidden 
pillow-fight.)  To  one  who  fully  comprehends  the  facts.  Sin 
would  always  appear  too  futile  to  be  taken  seriously.  It  is 
necessary,  no  doubt,  to  take  our  own  sins  and  those  of  our 
neighbours  very  seriously,  but  that  is  because  we  do  not  fully 
comprehend.  For  those  who  do,  if  there  are  such,  the  most 
atrocious  of  our  crimes  may  reveal  themselves  to  have  the  same 
triviality  which  even  we  can  perceive  in  a  schoolboy's  sur- 
reptitious cigarette.  In  heaven  "they  whistle  the  devil  to 
make  them  sport  who  know  that  sin  is  vain^." 

It  would  seem,  then,  that  in  this  matter  a  system  of 
education  cannot  be  judged  by  the  same  tests  as  a  system  of 

^  Kipling,  Barrack-room  Ballads,  Dedication. 


176  sm 

government.  The  punishments  of  the  state  can  scarcely  hope 
to  be  anything  more  than  deterrent  and  preventive,  and,  since 
this  is  so,  that  state  is  in  the  most  healthy  condition  in  which 
the  fewest  punishments  are  deserved.  But  if  punishment  has, 
in  education,  the  higher  function  of  a  stage  in  a  necessary  moral 
process,  it  would  follow  that  a  system  of  education  is  none  the 
worse  because  it  does  not  prevent  children  from  deserving 
punishment — provided,  of  course,  that  it  affords  a  reasonable 
probability  that  they  will  get  what  they  deserve. 


CHAPTER   VII 

THE  CONCEPTION  OF  SOCIETY  AS  AN  ORGANISM 

189.  Hegel's  tendency  to  exalt  the  state,  and  society 
generally,  at  the  expense  of  the  individual  citizen,  is  one  of 
the  most  striking  characteristics  of  his  system.  It  is  one, 
moreover,  m  which  Hegelians,  as  a  rule,  have  faithfully 
followed  their  master. 

The  exaltation  in  question  is  not  identical  with  a  desire 
to  increase  very  largely  the  functions  exercised  by  the  state. 
It  involves  indeed,  almost  necessarily,  the  extension  of  those 
functions  beyond  the  limits  allowed  them  by  the  stricter 
Individualists.  But  it  would  be  quite  consistent  with  an 
amount  of  individual  liberty  which  would  prevent  the  result 
from  being  classified  as  Socialism  or  Communism.  And,  on  the 
other  hand,  it  is  quite  possible  to  propose  a  system  of  the 
most  rigid  Socialism  or  Communism,  and  yet  to  disagree 
entirely  with  Hegel's  view  of  the  dignity  of  the  state.  This 
was,  to  a  large  extent,  the  position  of  the  older  Socialists, 
such  as  Robert  Owen. 

We  may  best  define  Hegel's  position  by  contrasting  it  with 
its  opposite.  That  opposite  is  the  theory  that  the  state  and 
society  are  merely  external  mechanisms  for  promoting  the 
individual  welfare  of  the  individual  citizens.  This  theory  does 
not,  of  course,  involve  that  each  citizen  cares  only  about  his 
own  welfare.  But,  if  he  cares  about  the  welfare  of  others,  he 
regards  them  as  an  aggregate,  each  of  whom  has  a  welfare 
of  his  own,  not  as  a  whole,  whose  welfare  is  one  and  the  same. 
Again,  this  theory  does  not  assert  that  the  state  was  formed 
by  the  agreement  of  individuals  who  were  before  isolated,  nor 

MCT.  12 


178    THE   CONCEPTION   OF  SOCIETY  AS  AN  ORGANISM 

that  the  machinery,  which  the  state  and  society  give,  could 
possibly  be  dispensed  with  by  the  individual.  But,  in  whatever 
way  the  union  was  first  formed,  and  however  indispensable  it 
may  be,  we  can  only  justify  its  existence  on  the  ground  that 
it  is  a  common  means  to  the  separate  ends  of  the  citizens.  To 
this  view  Hegel  opposes  t\e  assertion  that  society  is  more 
than  a  merely  external  means. 

I  maintain  that  there  is  nothing  in  Hegel's  metaphysics 
which  logically  involves  this  view  of  society.  On  the  contrary, 
it  seems  to  me  that  such  a  system  of  metaphysics  involves  the 
view  that  the  present  condition  of  society,  and  any  possible 
form  of  the  state,  can  only  be  looked  on  as  means  to  the 
welfare  of  the  individuals  who  compose  them.  That  welfare, 
indeed,  can  never  be  found  in  isolation,  but  may  be  found 
in  very  different  combinations. 

190.  Hegel's  own  view  on  the  subject  is  generally  expressed 
by  saying  that  the  nature  of  society  is  organic.  This  phrase, 
so  far  as  I  know,  is  not  used  by  Hegel  himself.  And  it  does 
not  seem  to  be  very  accurate.  An  organic  unity  is,  in  the 
ordinary  meaning  of  the  term,  such  a  unity  as  binds  together 
the  different  parts  of  a  living  body.  And,  whatever  may  be 
the  unity  which  exists  in  society,  it  would  seem  clear  that 
it  cannot,  on  HegeUan  principles,  be  the  same  as  that  of  the 
parts  of  a  body.  Self-conscious  persons,  such  as  make  up 
society,  are  far  more  individual  than  a  hand  or  a  foot.  Now", 
according  to  Hegel,  the  greater  is  the  individuality  of  parts, 
the  closer  is  the  unity  which  can  be  established  between  them, 
and  the  deeper  must  we  go  to  establish  it.  It  follows  that 
self-conscious  persons  will  need  a  deeper  and  more  fundamental 
principle  of  union  than  suffices  for  the  parts  of  a  body,  and, 
if  they  are  joined  by  a  principle  adequate  for  the  purpose, 
will  form  a  unity  far  closer  than  that  of  the  parts  of  a  body. 
And  to  call  such  a  principle  organic  seems  unreasonable.  It 
is  true  that  it  comprehends  and  surpasses  the  principle  of 
organic  unity.  But,  if  this  were  a  reason  for  calling  it  organic, 
it  would  be  an  equally  good  reason  for  calling  an  organic  unity 
mechanical,  and  for  calling  a  mechanical  unity  a  mathematical 
aggregate. 


THE   CONCEPTION   OF  SOCIETY  AS  AN  ORGANISM     179 

The  use  of  the  word  organic,  therefore,  seems  to  me 
incorrect,  and,  not  improbably,  misleading.  But  since  it  is 
used  by  most  of  the  writers  of  the  present  day  who  follow 
Hegel  in  this  question,  I  shall  adopt  their  phraseology  while 
I  am  considering  their  views. 

Hegel  takes  the  State  {Der  Staat)  as  a  higher  form  of 
society  than  the  Civic  Community  {Die  biirgerliche  Gesell- 
schafl).  He  expresses  the  distinction  between  them  as 
follows:  "Were  the  state  to  be  considered  as  exchangeable 
with  the  civic  community,  and  were  its  decisive  features 
to  be  regarded  as  the  security  and  protection  of  property  and 
personal  freedom,  the  interests  of  the  individual  as  such  would 
be  the  ultimate  purpose  of  the  social  union.  It  would  then 
be  at  one's  option  to  be  a  member  of  the  state.  But  the  state 
has  a  totally  different  relation  to  the  individual.  It  is  the 
objective  spirit,  and  he  has  his  truth,  real  existence,  and 
ethical  status  only  in  being  a  member  of  it.  Union,  as  such, 
is  itself  the  true  content  and  end,  since  the  individual  is 
intended  to  pass  a  universal  life.  His  particular  satisfactions, 
activities,  and  way  of  life  have  in  this  authenticated  substantive 
principle  their  origin  and  result^." 

Hegel  does  not,  however,  make  any  distinct  attempt  to 
prove  the  superiority  of  the  State  to  the  Civic  Community. 
He  points  out  that  the  unity  is  more  close  and  vital  in  the 
State,  and  there  he  leaves  the  matter,  the  line  of  thought 
being,  apparently,  that  since  it  has  been  proved  in  the  Logic 
that  true  reality  is  a  perfect  unity,  the  closer  unity  is  always 
the  higher  form.  For  a  more  detailed  treatment  of  the 
subject  we  must  look  to  his  followers.  In  particular,  Dr 
Mackenzie,  in  his  "Introduction  to  Social  Philosophy,"  main- 
tains the  organic  nature  of  society  with  such  force  and  clearness 
that  our  best  method  of  dealing  with  the  subject  will  be  to 
examine  his  exposition  of  it. 

191.  Dr  Mackenzie  defines  an  organism  by  saying  that 
in  it  "  the  relations  of  the  parts  are  intrinsic ;  changes  take 
place  by  an  internal  adaptation ;  and  its  end  forms  an  essential 

^  Philosophy  of  Law,  Section  258,  lecture  note. 

12—2 


180    THE  CONCEPTION   OF  SOCIETY  AS  AN   ORGANISM 

element  in  its  own  nature  i."  Here  are  three  characteristics. 
The  second  does  not  require  special  consideration.  Its  truth, 
and  the  sense  in  which  it  is  to  be  taken,  seem  to  depend  on 
the  truth,  and  on  the  precise  meaning,  of  the  previous  state- 
ment that  the  relations  of  the  parts  are  intrinsic.  The  other 
two  points  of  the  definition  seem  to  me  to  be  ambiguous.  If 
they  are  taken  to  imply  that  society  is  an  end  to  the  individuals 
who  compose  it,  they  would  form  an  adequate  definition  of 
organism ;  but  in  that  sense  I  do  not  think  that  Dr  Mackenzie 
has  proved  them  to  be  true  of  society.  On  the  other  hand,  in 
the  sense  in  which  he  has  proved  them  to  be  true  of  society, 
they  appear  to  me  to  be  quite  compatible  with  a  theory  which 
should  regard  society  as  a  merely  mechanical  unity,  and  as 
simply  a  means  to  the  separate  ends  of  its  constituent  indi- 
viduals. 

192.  Let  us  take  first  the  intrinsic  relations  of  the  parts 
to  the  whole.  If  this  were  to  mean,  as  it  might  possibly  be 
taken  to  mean,  that  to  be  in  these  relations  was  the  end  of 
the  individual  who  was  in  them,  and  that  this  was  his  end, 
not  from  any  further  quality  of  the  relations,  but  simply 
because  they  w^ere  the  relations  which  united  him  to  society, 
then,  indeed,  we  should  have  an  organic  unity. 

But  this  is  not  what  Dr  Mackenzie  proves.  He  appears 
to  be  satisfied  when  he  has  pointed  out  that  the  individual's 
nature  is  determined  in  every  direction  by  the  society  in  which 
he  lives,  and  that  there  is  no  part  of  his  nature  to  which  this 
determination  does  not  extend"^.  This  is  unquestionably  true. 
No  man,  indeed,  is  only  the  product  of  society,  for  it  would 
be  impossible  to  account  for  the  differentiated  result,  if  it  did 
not  contain  an  originally  differentiated  element.  The  co- 
existence of  individuals  in  a  whole  may  modify  their  differences, 
but  cannot  construct  them  out  of  nothing.  But  this,  I 
imagine,  would  not  be  denied  by  Dr  Mackenzie,  and  it  is 
impossible  to  dispute  his  assertion  that  no  individual,  and  no 
part  of  any  individual's  nature,  would  be  what  it  now  is, 

^  An  Introduction  to  Social  Philosophy,  chap.  m.  p.  164.   My  references  are 
to  the  edition  of  1895. 

^  op.  cit.  chap.  in.  pp.  166 — 171. 


THE  CONCEPTION  OF  SOCIETY  AS  AN  ORGANISM     181 

except  for  the  influence  of  the  society  to  which  that  individual 
belongs. 

But  what  does  this  come  to,  when  it  is  admitted?  Surely 
to  nothing  else  than  the  assertion  of  complete  reciprocal  deter- 
mination, which  is  involved  in  organic  connection,  but  is  by 
no  means  equivalent  to  it.  As  soon  as  we  realise  that  causal 
determination  is  complete  and  reciprocal,  and  that  the  dis- 
tinction between  essence  and  appearance  is  illegitimate,  we 
are  able  to  assert  about  any  two  things  in  the  universe  the 
relation  which  Dr  Mackenzie  has  pointed  out  between  the 
individual  and  society.  No  Englishman  would  be  quite  what 
he  is  now,  if  the  Reform  Bill  had  not  been  carried,  or 
if  Dr  Pusey  had  joined  the  Roman  Communion.  Granted. 
And  no  Englishman  would  be  quite  what  he  is  now,  if  there 
'were  one  more  herring  in  the  Atlantic.  The  influence  in  the 
first  case  is  more  important  than  in  the  second;  but  that  is 
not  a  difference  of  kind,  and  will  not  entitle  us  to  say  that 
society  joins  individuals  in  any  way  which  is  qualitatively 
different  from  the  way  in  which  everything  in  the  universe  is 
joined  to  everything  else. 

What  possible  theory  of  the  state  does  this  truth  exclude? 
It  would  exclude,  certainly,  any  theory  which  denied  that  the 
individual  was  affected  at  all  by  living  in  society.  But  does 
anyone  hold — could  anyone  hold — such  a  view?  It  has  been 
asserted  that  society  is  the  end  of  the  individual.  It  has  been 
asserted  that  it  is  a  means  to  that  end.  It  has  even  been 
asserted,  by  anchorites,  that  it  was  simply  a  hindrance  to 
that  end.  But  has  anyone  ever  said  that  man  was  exactly 
the  same  in  society  as  he  would  be  out  of  it?  It  has  been 
maintained,  no  doubt,  that  the  associated  man  is  only  super- 
ficially different  from  the  isolated  man,  and  that  the  two  are 
fundamentally  the  same.  But  it  has  never  been  denied  that 
they  are  different.  The  assertion  which  would  be  denied  by 
Dr  Mackenzie's  demonstration  of  "intrinsic  relations"  is  not 
that  society  makes  no  fundamental  difference  in  the  individual, 
but  that  it  makes  no  difference  in  him  at  all.  And  when  we 
have  disposed  of  this  absurdity,  all  sane  theories  of  the  state 
are  still  left  to  choose  from. 


182     THE   CONCEPTION   OF  SOCIETY  AS  AN   ORGANISM 

193.  The  intrinsic  relations  of  individuals  would  also,  no 
doubt,  be  incompatible  with  the  theory  which  Dr  Mackenzie 
calls  mechanical.  "A  mechanical  or  dualistic  view,  again," 
he  says,  "would  regard  the  individual  as  partly  dependent 
and  partly  independent;  as  to  some  extent  possessing  a  life 
of  his  own,  and  yet  to  some  extent  dependent  on  his  social 
surroundings^."  It  is  impossible,  certainly,  to  divide  any 
individual  into  isolated  compartments,  and  if  any  part  of  a 
man's  life  is  affected  by  the  society  of  which  he  is  a  member, 
no  part  of  his  life  can  be  wholly  unafiected  by  it.  But  although 
the  view  here  rejected  may  fitly  be  called  mechanical,  it  is 
not  the  only  view  which  deserves  that  name.  It  answers 
to  the  category  to  which  Hegel  has  given  the  name  of  Formal 
Mechanism,  but  there  still  remains  the  higher  category  which 
he  calls  Absolute  Mechanism.  In  Absolute  Mechanism,  if 
I  interpret  the  Logic  rightly,  we  discard  the  supposition 
that  the  internal  nature  of  anything  can  be  independent 
of  the  relations  into  which  it  enters  with  other  things.  We 
see  that  the  two  sides  are  inseparably  connected.  On  the 
one  hand,  the  internal  nature  of  anything  is  meaningless 
except  in  connection  with  its  relations  to  other  things,  since 
it  is  only  in  those  relations  that  the  inner  nature  can  mani- 
fest itself.  On  the  other  hand,  relations  to  other  things 
are  meaningless  except  in  relation  to  the  internal  nature  of 
the  thing.  A  merely  passive  subject  of  relations  is  impos- 
sible, as  the  category  of  Reciprocity  has  already  taught  us. 
If  A  is  mn,  because  it  is  related  to  BC,  this  is  not  a  merely 
external  relation.  For  it  must  be  ascribed  to  the  nature 
of  A  that  BC  produces  upon  it  the  result  mn  rather  then 
the  result  op. 

Now  the  admission  of  intrinsic  relations — that  there  is 
nothing  whatever  in  A  which  is  independent  of  its  relations 
to  B,  C,  &c. — need  not  involve  more  than  the  category  of 
Absolute  Mechanism.  And,  in  admitting  this  category,  we 
have  by  no  means  reached  the  idea  of  organic  unity.  No 
unity,  it  is  clear,  can  be  organic  which  is  a  mere  means  to  the 
separate  ends  of  its  constituent  individuals.  And  there  is 
^  op.  cit.  chap.  m.  p.  150. 


THE   CONCEPTION   OF  SOCIETY  AS  AN   ORGANISM     183 

nothing  in  the  category  of  Absolute  Mechanism  to  hinder  this 
from  being  the  case.  Each  individual,  it  is  true,  is,  under  this 
category,  determined  throughout  by  the  unity  in  which  he 
stands  with  the  other  individuals  of  the  same  system.  But 
ends,  means,  and  hindrances  to  ends,  all  exercise  causal  deter- 
mination over  objects.  A  man  is  causally  determined  alike 
by  the  moral  ideal  which  he  holds,  by  the  medicine  which  he 
takes,  and  by  the  hatreds  which  he  feels.  But  this  need  not 
prevent  us  from  saying  that  the  j&rst  of  these  is  an  end,  good 
in  itself,  the  second  a  means,  which  has  value  only  in  so  far 
as  it  enables  us  to  carry  out  the  end,  and  the  third  a  hindrance 
to  carrying  out  the  end,  and,  therefore,  positively  bad. 

Accordingly  we  find  that  those  theories  of  society  which 
carry  individualism  furthest  are  quite  consistent  with  the 
category  of  Absolute  Mechanism,  and  with  the  admission  of 
intrinsic  relations  between  the  members  of  society.  The 
hermits  of  the  early  Church  regarded  society  as  detrimental 
to  man's  highest  interests,  and  consequently  as  an  evil  to  be 
avoided  as  far  as  possible,  and  to  be  steadily  resisted  when 
unavoidable.  A  hedonist  regards  society  as  only  justifiable 
in  so  far  as  it  produces,  for  each  of  the  individuals  who  com- 
pose it,  a  greater  amount  of  private  happiness  than  he  would 
otherwise  have  enjoyed.  Both  these  positions  are  quite 
compatible  with  the  intrinsic  relations  which  we  have  been 
considering.  For  each  of  them  would  have  admitted  that 
some  society  was  indispensable,  and  each  of  them  would  have 
admitted  that  the  whole  man  was  modified  by  the  society  of 
which  he  formed  a  part. 

194.  I  have  endeavoured  to  prove  that  the  intrinsic  re- 
lation of  the  parts  of  society  gives  us  no  help  towards  estab- 
lishing its  organic  nature,  since  the  proposition  would  be 
equally  true  of  any  real  system,  whether  organic  or  not.  We 
must  now  consider  the  third  clause  of  Dr  Mackenzie's  definition 
of  an  organism :  "  its  end  forms  an  essential  element  in  its  own 
nature." 

Here  again  there  seems  to  me  to  be  a  dangerous  ambiguity. 
If  this  proposition  meant,  as  it  might  mean,  that  the  existence 
of  the  society  as  society  was  its  own  end,  and  also  the  end 


184    THE  CONCEPTION   OF  SOCIETY  AS  AN   ORGANISM 

of  the  individuals  who  compose  it,  then,  indeed,  the  unity  in 
which  it  would  bind  those  individuals  would  be  so  close  that 
it  might  fairly  be  called  organic,  or  even  more  than  organic. 
But  when  we  come  to  enquire  into  the  precise  meaning  which 
Dr  Mackenzie  attaches  to  the  phrase,  we  shall  find  that,  in  one 
part  at  least  of  his  work,  he  gives  it  a  much  narrower  meaning, 
which,  however  true,  gives  us  no  reason  to  regard  it  as  an 
organism. 

"That  the  growth  of  social  conditions  has  reference  to  an 
inner  end,"  he  says,  "is  a  point  on  which  we  need  not  here 
enlarge.  That  the  movements  of  social  development  are  pur- 
poseless, no  one  supposes;  and  that  the  purpose  which  it 
subserves  lies  within  itself  is  equally  apparent.  What  the 
end  is,  it  may  be  difficult  to  determine;  but  it  is  easy  to 
perceive  that  it  is  some  form  of  human  well-being^." 

Dr  Mackenzie  seems  here  to  assume  that  "some  form  of 
human  well-being"  must  lie  within  society  itself.  But  this, 
though  it  may  be  true,  is  by  no  means  necessary.  All  human 
beings  are  at  present  within  society,  but  it  is  possible  that 
they  may  cease  to  be  so  in  the  future,  and  that  the  human 
well-being  which  it  is  the  object  of  society  to  promote  may  be 
one  in  which  society  is  broken  up,  and  the  individuals  isolated. 
(I  am  not,  of  course,  arguing  that  this  is  the  case.  I  am  only 
maintaining  that  the  fact  that  the  present  and  actual  human 
being  is  in  society,  does  not  of  itself  prove  that  the  future  and 
ideal  human  being  will  also  be  in  society^.) 

195.  The  end  of  a  school,  for  example,  is  the  well-being  of 
the  boys,  and  the  boys  form  the  school.  Nevertheless,  the 
school  is  not  an  end  in  itself.  For  boys  leave  school  when  they 
grow  up,  and  the  end  of  the  school  is  their  welfare  throughout 

1  op.  cif.  chap.  ni.  p.  176. 

2  Dr  Mackenzie  appears,  in  one  paragraph  at  least,  to  recognize  this.  For 
in  the  concluding  passage  of  chap.  m.  (p.  203)  he  admits,  if  I  understand 
him  rightly,  that  before  we  can  properly  call  society  an  organism  we  must 
enquire  whether  the  ideal  human  well-being,  which  is  the  end  of  society,  is 
itself  social.  But  since,  in  the  passage  quoted  above  from  p.  176,  he  appears 
to  assert  explicitly  that  human  well-being  is,  as  such,  social,  I  thought  it  well 
to  deal  with  both  positions  separately.  The  view  stated  on  p.  203,  and  developed 
in  chap,  rv,  will  be  considered  later. 


THE  CONCEPTION  OF  SOCIETY  AS  AN  ORGANISM     185 

life,  when  the}'  will  certainly  have  left  school,  and  may  easily 
be  completely  isolated  from  all  their  old  school-fellows. 

Now  what  is  undoubtedly  true  of  this  fraction  of  society 
may  be,  according  to  some  theories,  true  of  society  as  a  whole. 
Let  us  take  the  case  of  a  man  who  believed  that  society  existed 
for  the  promotion  of  true  holiness,  as  the  highest  end  of  man, 
while  at  the  same  time  he  defined  holiness  as  a  relation  which 
existed  between  God  and  a  particular  individual,  and  which 
was  independent  of — even  incompatible  with^any  relations 
between  the  individuals  themselves.  Now  any  one  who  be- 
lieved this — and  something  very  like  it  has  been  believed — 
would  quite  admit  that  the  end  of  society  was  nothing  else 
than  human  well-being,  since  he  would  conceive  that  the 
greatest  human  well-being  lay  in  holiness.  But  the  end  of 
society  would  not  be  in  itself;  on  the  contrary,  it  would  be 
something  which  could  only  be  realised  when  society  itself  had 
ceased  to  exist. 

Again,  consider  the  case  of  a  hedonist  who  should  hold  that 
the  one  end  of  society  was  to  make  the  sum  of  pleasures  felt 
by  its  individual  members,  taken  as  isolated  beings,  as  large 
as  possible.  Such  a  man  would  hold  that  the  end  of  society 
was  a  form  of  human  well-being,  while  he  would  not  regard 
society  as  an  organic  unity,  but  merely  as  a  means  for  the 
respective  ends  of  the  various  individuals  who  compose  it. 

196.  My  contention  has  been,  so  far,  that  it  is  useless  and 
misleading  to  call  any  unity  organic  unless  we  are  prepared 
to  maintain  that  it  (and  not  merely  something  at  present 
contained  in  it)  is  an  end  to  itself,  and  to  its  own  parts. 
Otherwise  we  shall  include  among  organic  unities  systems 
which  exist  as  bare  means  for  the  carrying  out  of  ends  which 
are  indifiterent,  or  even  hostile  to  the  unity.  To  call  such 
systems  organic  would  be  improper,  in  the  first  place,  because 
that  word  has  always  been  employed  to  denote  a  relatively 
close  unity,  while  such  a  use  would  extend  it  to  all  unities 
whatever.  Every  aggregate  of  individuals  which  were  not 
absolutely  isolated  from  each  other,  and  in  which  the  con- 
nection was  not  reduced  to  the  level  of  mere  delusion,  would 
be  classed  as  organic. 


186    THE   CONCEPTION   OF  SOCIETY  AS  AN   ORGANISM 

And,  in  the  second  place,  not  only  would  such  a  definition 
depart  completely  from  the  ordinary  usage,  but  it  would  render 
the  term  useless.  When  we  said  that  a  unity  was  organic, 
we  should  only  say  that  it  was  a  unity.  It  would  be  useless, 
for  example,  to  say  that  society  was  organic.  For  we  should 
only  thereby  deny  the  assertion  that  the  individual,  or  any 
part  of  him,  is  uninfluenced  by  being  in  society.  If  any  person 
does  hold  this  remarkable  view,  I  am  unable  to  say ;  but  it  is 
certainly  not  of  sufl&cient  weight  to  render  it  worth  while  to 
appropriate  such  a  convenient  word  as  organic  to  express 
disbelief  in  it.  Meanwhile,  the  distinction — of  such  cardinal 
importance  in  political  theory — between  those  who  admit  and 
those  who  deny  that  society  is  an  end  in  itself  would  remain 
without  a  suitable  name. 

I  should  suggest  that  the  most  suitable  definition  of  an 
organic  unity  for  our  present  purpose  might  be  something  like 
this:  "a  unity  which  is  the  end  of  its  parts."  This  clearly 
distinguishes  it  from  a  unity  which  is  merely  mechanical. 
It  also  distinguishes  it  from  a  chemical  unity,  to  use  Hegel's 
phrase,  in  which  the  parts  ar^  regarded  as  mere  means  which 
may  be  discarded  or  merged,  if  that  would  conduce  to  the 
realisation  of  the  end.  For  here  the  end  is  the  unity  of  the 
parts,  and  the  parts  therefore  are  an  element  in  the  end,  as 
well  as  the  means  to  it. 

This  definition  has  the  merit  of  coinciding  with  tolerable 
exactness  with  the  ordinary  use  of  the  word  organic,  which 
is  an  important  advantage  when  it  can  be  gained  without 
sacrifice  of  accuracy.  Organic  is  commonly  used  of  animal 
and  vegetable  life.  Now  the  definition  I  have  proposed  would 
include  animals  and  vegetables,  and  would  not  include  anything 
which  did  not  bear  a  tolerably  close  resemblance  to  biological 
unity. 

Such  a  definition  would  mark  a  division  in  our  present 
subject-matter  which  would  be  worth  making.  There  are  two 
theories  at  the  present  day  as  to  the  nature  of  society,  and 
especially  of  the  state,  each  of  which  has  considerable  practical 
influence,  and  for  each  of  which  much  can  be  said  that  must 
be  carefully  considered  by  any  student.      They  difier  by  the 


THE   CONCEPTION   OF  SOCIETY  AS  AN   ORGANISM     187 

admission  or  rejection  of  the  idea  of  society  as  an  end  in  itself, 
and  it  would  be  convenient  to  refer  to  them  as  the  organic 
and  inorganic  views  of  society. 

Hegel's  example  would  be  on  our  side.  For  in  the  Logic 
he  makes  scarcely  any  distinction  between  the  idea  of  an 
immanent  end  and  the  idea  of  life.  And  I  imagine  that  this 
definition  would  not  be  disapproved  by  Dr  Mackenzie  i. 

197.  Is  society  the  end  of  man?  This  is  the  question 
which  we  have  now  to  answer.  Let  us  enquire,  in  the  first 
place,  what  general  information  we  possess  regarding  our 
supreme  end. 

If  we  turn  to  Hegel,  we  find  that  for  him  the  supreme 
end  is  another  name  for  Absolute  Reality,  which,  sub  specie 
aeternitatis,  is  eternally  present,  but,  sub  specie  temporis,  pre- 
sents itself  as  an  ideal  and  a  goal.  Now  Hegel's  conception 
of  Absolute  Reality  is  one  which,  as  we  have  seen,  might  very 
fitly  be  called  a  society^.  It  is  a  differentiated  unity,  of  which 
the  parts  are  perfectly  individual,  and  which,  for  that  very 
reason,  is  a  perfect  unity.  To  call  such  a  unity  organic  would 
only  be  incorrect  because  it  was  inadequate.  And  thus  Absolute 
Reality  would  be  the  most  perfect  of  all  societies.  Just  because 
the  individual  was  such  a  complete  individual,  he  would  have 
all  his  perfection,  and  all  his  reality,  in  nothing  else  but  in 
his  relations  to  other  individuals.  Or,  to  quote  Dr  Mackenzie, 
"no  attainment  of  the  ideal  of  our  rational  nature  is  con- 
ceivable except  by  our  being  able  to  see  the  world  as  a 
system  of  intelligent  beings  who  are  mutually  worlds  for 
each  other^." 

The  end  of  man,  then,  is  a  society.  But  we  are  now  con- 
sidering "social  philosophy"  and  not  theology,  and  what  we 
want  to  know  is  not  our  relation  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven, 
but  our  relation  to  society  as  it  is  now  around  us,  and  as  it 
may  be  expected  to  be  in  an  earthly  future.  Now  it  is  quite 
clear  that,   whatever   this  ideal  society,  which  Hegel  makes 

^  Op.  above,  Section  194,  note,  and  the  Introduction  to  Social  Philosophy, 
chap.  in.  p.  203. 

2  Cp.  below.  Sections  216—218. 
'  op.  cit.  chap.  IV.  p.  260. 


188     THE   CONCEPTION   OF  SOCIETY  AS  AN   ORGANISM 

our  end,  may  be,  it  is  not  the  society  which  we  have  round 
us  to-day.  Absolute  Reality,  according  to  Hegel,  is  eternal, 
and  cannot  be  fully  realised  in  any  state  of  the  world  which 
is  still  subject  to  succession  in  time.  Absolute  Reality  must 
see  and  be  seen  under  the  highest  category  only,  and  is  not 
realised  while  any  reality  is  unconscious  of  itself,  or  appears 
to  others  under  the  form  of  matter.  Absolute  Reality,  finally, 
is  incompatible  with  pain  or  imperfection. 

This  is  clearly  not  the  society  in  which  we  live,  and  we 
are  not  entitled  to  argue  that  the  society  of  the  present  is 
an  organic  unity,  because  the  ideal  society  is  such  a  unity. 
But  although  they  are  not  identical,  the  society  of  the  present 
and  the  ideal  certainly  stand  in  some  relation  to  one  another. 
Can  we,  by  a  closer  investigation  of  this  relation,  find  any 
reason  to  consider  the  society  of  the  present  organic? 

198.  It  might  seem  as  if  we  had  made  an  important  step 
in  this  direction  when  we  reflected  that  in  a  system  like  society, 
whose  parts  are  seK-conscious  individuals,  one  of  the  strongest 
forces  towards  making  the  system  organic  is  the  conviction  that 
it  ought  to  be  so.  For  it  will  be  an  organism  if  the  individuals 
make  it  their  end.  Now  it  must  be  admitted  that  our  con- 
viction of  what  ought  to  be  our  end  will  not  always  decide 
what  our  end  actually  is.  A  man's  end  may  be  above  or  below 
his  theoretical  opinion  about  it.  He  may  acknowledge  the 
higher,  and  yet  pursue  the  lower.  Or  he  may  explicitly 
acknowledge  only  the  lower,  and  yet  pursue  the  higher,  moved 
by  some  vague  impulse,  which  he  can  neither  justify  nor  resist. 
Still,  on  the  whole,  the  belief  that  anything  would  be  a  worthy 
end  has  a  great  influence  in  making  it  a  real  one. 

Can  we,  then,  establish  the  organic  nature  of  present  society 
as  an  ideal,  if  not  as  a  fact?  Can  we  say  that  the  society  of 
this  world  ought  to  be  organic,  and  that  we  shall  do  well  in 
proportion  as  we  make  it  so  by  regarding  the  various  relations, 
natural  and  civic,  which  constitute  it,  as  the  end  of  our 
individual  lives?  The  ultimate  end,  indeed,  it  cannot  be. 
Nothing  but  the  heavenly  society  can  be  that,  and,  since 
anything  earthy  must  be  different  from  absolute  reality,  our 
present  society,  even  if  improved  as  far  as  possible,  could  never 


THE  CONCEPTION   OF  SOCIETY  AS  AN   ORGANISM     189 

be  anything  higher  than  the  means  to  the  ultimate  end.  But, 
in  reference  to  all  the  activities  and  interests  of  our  individual 
lives,  it  might  be  said  that  present  society  might  be  rightly 
considered  as  the  end,  since  it  is  only  by  working  in  it  and 
through  it  that  we  can  progress  towards  the  ultimate  ideal 
which  alone  can  fully  satisfy  us. 

This,  if  I  understand  him  rightly,  is  something  like  the 
position  which  Dr  Mackenzie  adopts.  Having  said,  in  the 
passage  quoted  above,  that  "no  attainment  of  the  ideal  of 
our  rational  nature  is  conceivable,  except  by  our  being  able  to 
see  the  world  as  a  system  of  intelligent  beings  who  are  mutually 
worlds  for  each  other,"  he  continues,  "  now,  how  far  it  is  possible 
to  think  of  the  whole  world  in  this  way  is  a  question  for  the 
Philosophy  of  Religion  to  discuss.  It  is  enough  for  us  here  to 
observe  that,  in  so  far  as  we  come  into  relations  to  other  human 
beings  in  the  world,  we  are  attaining  to  a  partial  realisation  of 
the  ideal  which  our  rational  nature  sets  before  us.  And  there 
is  no  other  way  by  which  we  come  to  such  a  realisation.  In  so 
far  as  the  world  is  merely  material,  it  remains  foreign  and 
unintelligible  to  us.  It  is  only  in  the  lives  of  other  human 
beings  that  we  find  a  world  in  which  we  can  be  at  home. 
Now  in  this  fact  we  obviously  find  a  much  deeper  significance 
for  the  organic  nature  of  society  than  any  that  we  have  yet 
reached.  For  we  see  that  the  society  of  other  human  beings 
is  not  merely  a  means  of  bringing  our  own  rational  nature  to 
clearness,  but  is  the  only  object  in  relation  to  which  such 
clearness  can  be  attained^." 

199.  I  must  confess,  however,  that  I  am  unable  to  see  that 
this  argument  is  valid.  It  is  true  that  the  ultimate  ideal  is 
a  state  of  society  which  is  organic.  It  is  true,  too,  that  only 
through  our  present  society  can  that  ideal  be  reached.  For  we 
must  begin  from  where  we  are,  and  at  present  we  are  in  society. 
It  may  be  granted,  too,  that  it  is  almost  incredible  that  a  period 
of  absolute  social  chaos  should  intervene  between  us  and  the 
goal,  and  that  the  progress  to  that  goal  may  safely  be  con- 
sidered as  made  continuously  through  society. 

Yet  it  does  not  follow,  I  submit,  that  it  would  be  well  to 

^  op.  cit.  chap.  IV.  p.  260. 


190    THE  CONCEPTION  OF  SOCIETY  AS  AN  ORGANISM 

regard  our  present  society  as  an  end.  For  although  our  progress 
to  the  ideal  is  through  it,  that  progress  is  often  negatively 
related  to  it.  Our  advance  often — to  some  extent,  always — 
consists  in  breaking  up  and  rising  above  relations  which,  up  to 
that  point,  had  been  part  of  the  constitution  of  society.  And 
so  these  relations  cannot  be  regarded  as  an  end.  The  fact  that 
their  value  is  purely  derivative  should  be  ever  before  us — at 
least,  in  so  far  as  we  reflect  at  all.  We  must  express  ourselves 
by  them  as  long  as  we  find  them  the  best  expression  of  the 
absolute  end,  or  the  best  road  to  it,  but  only  under  the 
reservation  that  we  are  to  throw  them  aside  as  worthless, 
when  we  find  a  more  adequate  expression  or  a  more  direct 
road. 

The  abstract  form  of  society,  indeed,  remains.  In  whatever 
way  we  work  out  our  destiny,  we  work  it  out  in  one  another's 
company.  But  if  the  particular  relations  which  constitute  our 
present  society  at  any  moment  are  to  be  looked  on  as  means,  to 
be  discarded  when  better  ones  can  be  found,  this  is  sufficient 
to  destroy  the  claims  of  our  present  society  to  be  considered 
organic.  For  the  abstract  fact  that  individuals  are  somehow 
connected,  can  never  be  sufficient  to  unite  them  in  an  organic 
unity.  Individuals  can  never  find  their  end,  which  must  be 
something  concrete,  not  abstract,  in  the  bare  fact  of  their 
connection  with  one  another.  It  is  only  some  particular 
connection  that  they  can  accept  as  their  end,  and  it  is  only 
in  respect  of  some  particular  connection  that  they  are  organic. 
And  if,  as  I  suggested  above,  any  particular  relations  which 
we  find  in  the  society  of  the  present  day  must  be  looked  on  as 
mere  means,  it  will  be  impossible  to  regard  that  society  itself 
as  organic. 

200.  The  correctness  of  this  statement  remains  to  be 
considered.  My  object  has  been  so  far  to  assert,  not  that 
our  present  society  cannot  be  regarded  as  an  organism,  but 
that  there  is  nothing  in  the  Hegelian  metaphysics  which  can 
fairly  be  taken  as  proving,  or  even  as  suggesting,  the  organic 
nature  of  that  society.  It  will  be  for  the  other  side  to  prove, 
if  they  can,  that  the  perfect  society  of  Absolute  Reality  will  be 
found  to  be  constituted  on  the  same  plan  as  our  present  society. 


THE  CONCEPTION   OF  SOCIETY  AS  AN  ORGANISM     191 

joining  and  sundering  in  heaven  those  who  are  joined  and 
sundered  on  earth. 

No  attempt  has  been  made,  so  far  as  I  know,  to  prove  this, 
nor  is  it  easy  to  see  how  it  could  be  proved.  Indeed,  there  is  a 
strong  presumption,  to  say  the  least,  that  the  opposite  is  true. 
For  when  we  come  to  consider  what  determines  the  actual 
relations  in  which  men  find  themselves  in  society — the  relations 
of  family,  of  school,  of  profession,  of  state,  of  church — we  find 
that  overwhelming  influence  is  exercised  by  considerations 
which  we  cannot  suppose  will  have  overwhelming  influence 
in  that  ideal  society  in  which  all  our  aspirations  would  be 
satisfied.  Birth  of  the  same  parents,  birth  on  the  same  side 
of  a  river,  a  woman's  beauty,  a  man's  desire — such  are  the 
causes  which  often  determine,  in  our  present  society,  what 
individuals  shall  be  most  closely  related  together.  All  these 
things  are  no  doubt  real,  in  some  degree,  and  therefore  are  to 
some  degree  represented  in  the  ideal ;  but  to  suppose  that  they 
are  as  important  there  as  they  are  here,  would  be  to  forget  that 
in  that  ideal  we  are  to  find  "a  world  in  which  we  can  be  at 
home."  No  doubt  the  society  of  the  present  is  the  natural  and 
inevitable  introduction  to  the  society  of  the  future,  but  it  is  so 
only  in  the  same  way  as  everything  else  is.  Of  everything 
which  has  ever  happened  in  the  world,  of  anarchy  as  well  as  of 
society,  of  sin  as  well  as  of  virtue,  of  hatred  as  well  as  of  love,  the 
fact  that  it  has  happened  proves  that  it  was  a  necessary  incident 
in  the  movement  towards  the  ideal.  But  this  can  give  it  no 
more  than  a  derivative  value.  I  find  myself  associated  with 
Smith  in  a  Parish  Council.  This  no  doubt  is  a  stage  in  our 
progress  towards  the  ideal  society  of  heaven.  But  there  is  no 
a  priori  reason  to  regard  it  as  more  vitally  connected  with  that 
goal  of  all  our  ambitions  than  anything  else,  good  or  bad,  social 
or  isolated,  which  happens  to  either  of  us.  Whatever  heaven 
may  be  like,  it  cannot  closely  resemble  a  Parish  Council,  since 
the  functions  of  the  latter  involve  both  matter  and  time.  And 
it  is  by  no  means  improbable  that  the  result  of  my  joint 
labours  with  Smith  on  earth  may  be  the  attainment  of  a  state 
in  which  I  shall  be  linked  most  closely  in  heaven,  not  to  Smith, 
but  to  Jones,  who  comes  from  another  parish. 


192     THE   CONCEPTION   OF  SOCIETY  AS  AN   ORGANISM 

201.  The  vast  majority  of  the  relations  which  make  up 
our  present  society  are  of  this  kind — relations  which  have  their 
origin  and  meaning  only  with  reference  to  the  conditions  of  our 
present  imperfect  existence,  and  which  would  be  meaningless 
in  the  ideal.  It  is  possible  that  we  might  find,  on  further 
consideration  of  the  nature  of  Absolute  Reality,  and  of  our  own 
lives,  some  element  in  the  latter  which  seemed  to  belong 
directly  to  the  former^ — something  which  did  not  merely  lead 
to  heaven,  but  was  heaven^.  Supposing  that  this  were  so,  and 
that  we  found  in  our  present  lives  some  element  of  absolute 
value,  then  it  would  be  more  hopeless  than  ever  to  regard  our 
present  society  as  an  end.  For,  if  such  elements  do  exist,  they 
certainly  are  not  able  to  exercise  an  uncontested  influence  over 
the  world.  And  it  is  perhaps  for  this  reason  that  the  deepest 
emotions  are  apt,  if  they  have  any  efiect  on  society,  to  have  a 
negative  and  disintegrating  effect,  at  least  as  far  as  our  present 
observation  will  carry  us.  They  may  bring  peace  on  earth  in 
the  very  long  run,  but  they  begin  with  the  sword. 

Nothing,  surely,  could  so  effectively  degrade  present  society 
from  the  position  of  an  end  to  that  of  a  means,  only  valuable  as 
leading  on  to  something  else,  than  such  a  state  of  things,  if 
it  should  prove  to  be  true.  If  we  have,  here  and  now,  partial 
experience  of  something  whose  complete  realisation  would  give 
us  utter  and  absolute  satisfaction,  how  can  we  avoid  a  relation 
of  partial  hostility  to  a  state  of  society  which  refuses  us  that 
supreme  good?  For  it  will  scarcely  be  denied  that  utter  and 
absolute  satisfaction  is  not  an  invariable  accompaniment  of 
social  life  as  we  find  it  at  present. 

202.  To  sum  up  the  argument  so  far.  I  have  endeavoured 
to  prove,  in  the  first  place,  that  we  gain  nothing  by  calling 
society  an  organism  unless  we  are  prepared  to  assert  that 
it  is  the  end  of  the  individuals  composing  it.  And,  in  the 
second  place,  I  have  endeavoured  to  prove  that  there  is  nothing 
in  Hegel's  metaphysical  conclusions  which  entitles  us  to  believe 
that  our  present  society  is,  or  ought  to  be,  an  end  for  its 
individual  citizens.     But  we  can  go  further,  and  say  that  the 

^  Cp.  chap. IX. 


THE  CONCEPTION   OF  SOCIETY  AS  AN   ORGANISM     193 

true  lesson  to  be  derived  from  the  philosophy  of  Hegel  is  that 
earthly  society  can  never  be  an  adequate  end  for  man.  For 
Hegel  has  defined  for  us  an  absolute  and  ultimate  ideal, 
and  this  not  as  a  vain  aspiration,  but  as  an  end  to  which 
all  reality  is  moving.  This  ideal  we  can  understand — dimly 
and  imperfectly,  no  doubt,  but  still  understand.  And  to  any 
one  who  has  entertained  such  an  ideal,  society,  as  it  is,  or 
as  it  can  be  made  under  conditions  of  time  and  imperfection, 
can  only  be  external  and  mechanical.  Each  of  us  is  more 
than  the  society  which  unites  us,  because  there  is  in  each  of 
us  the  longing  for  a  perfection  which  that  society  can  never 
realise.  The  parts  of  a  living  body  can  find  their  end  in  that 
body,  though  it  is  imperfect  and  transitory.  But  a  man  can 
dream  of  perfection,  and,  having  once  done  so,  he  will  find  no 
end  short  of  perfection.     Here  he  has  no  abiding  city. 

I  do  not  think  that  this  view  leads  either  to  asceticism 
or  to  the  cloister.  Not  to  asceticism ;  for  there  is  nothing  in 
it  inconsistent  with  the  great  truth,  so  often  neglected,  that 
a  limited  good  is  still  good,  though  limited.  The  beatific 
vision  is  good;  and  so  is  a  bottle  of  champagne.  The  only 
reason  why  we  should  not  take  the  satisfaction  produced  by 
champagne  as  our  end  is  that  it  is  not  one  with  which  our 
nature  could  be  eternally  content.  But  the  fact  that  we 
cannot  stop  till  we  get  to  heaven  will  not  make  our  champagne 
on  the  road  less  desirable,  unless,  of  course,  we  should  see 
reason  to  regard  it  as  a  hindrance  to  the  journey. 

Nor  have  we  found  any  reason  to  suppose  that  our  proper 
course  would  be  to  isolate  ourselves  from  the  imperfect  society 
of  this  world.  For  if  that  society  is  only  a  m^ans,  at  least  it 
is  an  indispensable  means.  If  it  is  not  a  god  to  be  worshipped, 
it  is  none  the  less  a  tool  which  must  be  used. 

203.  But  has  philosophy  any  guidance  to  give  us  as  to 
the  manner  in  which  we  shall  use  such  a  tool?  It  might  be 
supposed  that  it  had.  "Let  us  grant,"  it  might  be  said,  "that 
the  fact  that  the  Absolute  is  an  organic  society  does  not  prove 
that  our  present  society  is  or  ought  to  be  organic.  Yet  our 
present  society  will  become  perfect  in  so  far  as  it  approaches 
the   Absolute.     And   therefore   we   have   gained   an   d  jpriori 

MCT.  13 


194    THE  CONCEPTION  OF  SOCIETY  AS  AN  ORGANISM 

criterion  of  social  progress.  Whatever  makes  society  more 
organic  is  an  advance.  Whatever  makes  society  less  organic 
is  retrograde." 

This  argument  seems  to  me  fallacious.  We  must  remember 
that,  while  the  Absolute  is  a  perfect  unity,  it  is  a  perfect  unity 
of  perfect  individuals.  Not  only  is  the  bond  of  union  closer 
than  anything  which  we  can  now  even  imagine,  but  the 
persons  whom  it  unites  are  each  self-conscious,  self-centred  ^, 
unique,  to  a  degree  equally  unimaginable.  If,  on  the  one  side, 
we  are  defective  at  present  because  we  are  not  joined  closely 
enough  together,  we  are  defective,  on  the  other  side,  because 
we  are  not  sufficiently  differentiated  apart. 

These  two  defects,  and  the  remedies  for  them,  are  not,  of 
course,  incompatible.  Indeed,  Hegel  teaches  us  that  they  are 
necessarily  connected.  None  but  perfect  individuals  could 
unite  in  a  perfect  unity.  Only  in  a  perfect  unity  could  perfect 
individuals  exist.  But  Hegel  also  points  out  that  our  advance 
towards  an  ideal  is  never  direct.  Every  ideal  can  be  analysed 
into  two  complementary  moments.  And  in  advancing  towards 
it  we  emphasise,  first,  one  of  these,  and  then,  driven  on  in  the 
dialectic  process  by  the  consequent  incompleteness  and  con- 
tradiction, we  place  a  corresponding  emphasis  on  the  other, 
and  finally  gain  a  higher  level  by  uniting  the  two. 

This  is  the  Hegelian  law  of  progress.  To  apply  it  to  the 
present  case,  it  tells  us  that,  in  advancing  towards  an  ideal 
where  we  shall  be  both  more  differentiated  and  more  united 
than  we  are  now,  we  shall  emphasise  first  either  the  differen- 
tiation or  the  union,  and  then  supplement  it  by  the  other; 
that  we  shall  reach  thus  a  higher  state  of  equilibrium,  from 
which  a  fresh  start  must  be  made,  and  so  on,  through  con- 
tinually repeated  oscillations,  towards  the  goal. 

It  would  follow,  then,  that  it  would  be  impossible  for  us 
to  say  that  a  change  in  the  constitution  of  society  was  only 
good  if  it  drew  men  more  closely  together.  For  an  advance 
in  either  dii'ection  will  appear,  till  the  corresponding  advance 


^  Self-centred  does  not,  with  Hegel,  mean  isolated.    Indeed,  the  two  quali- 
ties are  incompatible. 


THE  CONCEPTION   OF  SOCIETY  AS  AN  ORGANISM     195 

is  made  in  the  other,  to  amount  to  a  positive  decrease  in  the 
latter,  which  has  become  relatively  less  important.  If,  in  any- 
state  of  society,  the  unity  increases  while  the  differentiation 
is  as  yet  unchanged,  it  will  appear  to  have  crushed  individu- 
ality. If,  on  the  other  hand,  differentiation  increases  while 
the  unity  is  unchanged,  society  will  appear  to  have  lost  unity. 
And  yet  in  each  case  there  will  be  a  real  advance  in  the  only 
way  in  which  advance  is  possible,  because  the  emphasis  laid 
on  one  side  furnishes  the  possibility — indeed  the  necessity — for 
the  eventual  advance  of  the  other  side,  which,  for  the  time, 
it  throws  into  the  background. 

204.  Philosophy,  then,  can  afford  us  no  guidance  as  to  the 
next  step  to  be  taken  at  any  time.  It  can  tell  us  that  we  are 
far  below  the  ideal,  both  in  unity  and  differentiation.  It  can 
tell  us  that  we  cannot  advance  far  in  one  without  advancing 
also  in  the  other.  But  it  also  tells  us  that  the  steps  are  to 
be  taken  separately,  and  it  can  give  us  no  information  as  to 
which,  here  and  now,  we  have  to  take  next.  That  must  depend 
on  the  particular  circumstances  which  surround  us  at  the 
moment — our  needs,  dangers,  resources.  It  can  only  be  de- 
cided empirically,  and  it  will  just  as  often  be  a  step  which 
throws  the  unity  into  the  background  as  it  will  be  one  which 
brings  it  forward  into  increased  prominence. 

There  is  no  want  of  historical  examples  which  illustrate 
this  alternate  movement  of  society.  The  institution  of  private 
property,  the  first  establishment  of  Christianity,  and  the  break- 
ing up  of  the  feudal  system — each  involved  an  increased 
emphasis  on  the  individual.  And  each  tended  to  make  society, 
as  it  was,  not  more  but  less  of  an  organism,  by  giving  the 
individual  claims  and  ideals  which  could  not  be  satisfied  in 
society  as  it  was,  and  some  of  which — such  as  parts  of  the 
Christian  ideal — cannot  be  satisfied  on  earth  at  all.  Yet  they 
were  all  steps  in  a  real  advance;  for  they  gave  an  increased 
individuality  to  the  parts  of  society  on  which  have  been  based 
unities  far  closer  than  could  have  been  attained  without  them. 
And  we  can  see  now  that,  if  the  Hegelian  conception  of  the 
Absolute  had  been  known  when  any  of  these  changes  was 
happening,  it  would  have  been  a  mistake  to  have  condemned 

13—2 


196    THE   CONCEPTION   OF  SOCIETY  AS  AN   ORGANISM 

the  change  on  the  ground  that  it  diminished  instead  of  in- 
creasing the  unity  of  society. 

So,  too,  with  the  present.  We  are  confronted  to-day  with 
schemes  both  for  increasing  and  diminishing  the  stringency 
of  social  ties.  On  the  one  hand  we  are  invited  to  nationahze 
the  production  of  wealth.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  suggested 
that  the  relations  of  husband  and  wife,  and  of  parent  and 
child,  should  be  reduced  to  the  minimum  which  is  physio- 
logically necessary.  I  have  no  intention  of  suggesting  that 
the  second  tendency  is  right,  or — here  at  least — that  the  first 
is  wrong.  But  I  maintain  that  the  question  is  one  upon 
which  philosophy  throws  no  light,  and  which  must  be  decided 
empirically.  The  ideal  is  so  enormously  distant  that  the  most 
perfect  knowledge  of  the  end  we  are  aiming  at  helps  us  very 
little  in  the  choice  of  the  road  by  which  we  may  get  there. 
Fortunately,  it  is  an  ideal  which  is  not  only  the  absolutely 
good,  but  the  absolutely  real,  and  we  can  take  no  road  that 
does  not  lead  to  it. 

205.  The  result  seems  to  be  that  philosophy  can  give  us 
very  little,  if  any,  guidance  in  action.  Nor  can  I  see  why  it 
should  be  expected  to  do  so.  Why  should  a  Hegelian  citizen 
be  surprised  that  his  belief  as  to  the  organic  nature  of  the 
Absolute  does  not  help  him  in  deciding  how  to  vote?  Would 
a  Hegelian  engineer  be  reasonable  in  expecting  that  his  belief 
that  all  matter  is  spirit  should  help  him  in  planning  a  bridge? 
And  if  it  should  be  asked  of  what  use,  then,  is  philosophy  ?  and 
if  that  should  be  held  a  relevant  question  to  ask  about  the 
search  for  truth,  I  should  reply  that  the  use  of  philosophy 
lies  not  in  being  deeper  than  science,  but  in  being  truer  than 
theology — not  in  its  bearing  on  action,  but  in  its  bearing  on 
religion.     It  does  not  give  us  guidance.     It  gives  us  hope. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

HEGELIANISM  AND   CHRISTIANITY 

206.  My  object,  in  the  present  chapter,  is  more  purely 
historical  than  in  the  rest  of  this  work.  I  shall  endeavour 
principally  to  determine  the  relation  in  which  Hegel  actually 
stood  to  the  Christian  religion,  and  not  the  relation  which 
logically  follows  from  the  main  principles  of  his  philosophy.  I 
believe  it  will  be  found,  however,  that,  on  this  question  at 
least,  his  conclusions  are  quite  consistent  with  his  fundamental 
premises. 

In  the  course  of  this  enquiry  I  shall  quote  with  some 
frequency  from  Hegel's  Philosophy  of  Religion.  But  I  would 
ask  the  reader  to  look  on  these  quotations  rather  as  illustrations 
of  my  interpretation  than  as  attempts  to  prove  that  it  is  correct. 
For  such  a  purpose  isolated  quotations  must  always  be  inade- 
quate. In  the  first  place,  Hegel's  views  on  this  subject  are  not 
so  much  expressed  in  distinct  propositions,  as  in  the  tendency 
and  spirit  of  page  after  page.  If  I  were  to  quote  all  that  is 
relevant  in  this  way,  I  should  have  to  transcribe  at  least  half  of 
Part  III  of  the  Philosophy  of  Religion.  And,  in  the  second 
place,  isolated  passages  which  support  one  view  may  perhaps 
be  balanced  by  others  supporting  the  opposite  view  still  more 
clearly.  Whether  I  am  right  in  supposing  that  this  is  not  the 
case  with  the  theory  I  shall  advocate  can  only  be  determined 
by  each  enquirer  through  his  own  study  of  the  text.  In  short, 
if  this  chapter  is  of  any  utility  to  the  student  of  Hegel,  it  must 
be  by  suggesting  to  him  a  point  of  view  which  is  to  be  judged 
by  his  own  knowledge  of  Hegel's  works,  and  especially  of  the 
Philosophy  of  Religion. 


198  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

207.  Hegel  repeatedly  speaks  of  Christianity  as  the  highest     "^ 
of  all  religions,  as  the  Absolute  Religion,  and  as  true.     This  is 

a  fact  of  the  first  importance  to  our  study  of  the  question  before 
us.  But  it  is  not,  as  is  sometimes  supposed,  a  sufl&cient  answer 
to  it.  We  must  ask  two  preliminary  questions.  First- — did 
even  the  highest  religion  express,  according  to  Hegel,  absolute 
truth?  Second — was  Hegel  using  the  word  Christianity  in  a 
sense  which  bears  any  similarity  to  the  ordinary  signification  of 
the  word?  Most  of  this  chapter  will  be  employed  in  investi- 
gating the  second  of  these  questions,  and  the  perplexities  in 
which  our  answer  may  involve  us  will  perhaps  be  solved  by 
considering  the  first. 

Christianity  is  a  word  of  ambiguous  meaning.  By  such  as 
count  themselves  Christians  it  is,  of  course,  applied  especially 
to  that  system  of  religion  which  each  of  them,  since  he  holds  it 
to  be  true,  holds  to  be  truly  Christian.  But  it  is  also  applied, 
both  by  Christians  and  others,  in  a  wider  sense.  It  is  used  as 
a  general  name  for  various  systems,  more  or  less  difiering  from 
one  another,  but  having  a  general  resemblance.  No  reasonable 
person  would  refuse  the  name  of  Christian  either  to  Calvinists 
or  to  Arminians,  either  to  the  Church  of  Rome  or  to  the  Church 
of  England. 

The  precise  limits  of  theological  belief,  however,  within 
which  the  word  is  applicable,  are  very  uncertain.  No  one, 
indeed,  would  deny  that  Berkeley  ought  to  be  called  a  Christian, 
and  that  Spinoza  ought  not.  But  what  amount  of  variation 
from  the  more  common  forms  of  Christianity  is  compatible  with 
a  proper  application  of  the  term  ?  This  is  a  question  on  which 
not  many  Christians  seem  to  be  certain,  and  on  which  still 
fewer  seem  to  be  agreed.  Any  attempt  on  the  part  of  outsiders 
to  determine  the  question  would  be  not  only  arduous,  but 
impertinent.  I  shall  therefore  confine  myself  to  an  endeavour 
to  show  what  views  Hegel  entertained  on  certain  theological 
subjects  of  cardinal  importance,  without  venturing  an  opinion 
as  to  the  propriety  of  calling  such  a  religious  system  by  the 
name  of  Christian. 

208.  The  points  on  which  Hegel's  system  appears  to  have, 
prima  facie,  the  most  striking  resemblance  to  Christianity  are 


HEGELIANISM    AND    CHRISTIANITY  199 

three :  the  doctrines  of  the  Trinity,  of  the  Incarnation,  and  of 
Original  Sin.  In  connection  with  each  of  these  we  have  to 
discuss  a  second.  With  his  belief  as  to  the  Trinity  of  God 
is  closely  connected  his  belief  as  to  God's  personality.  His 
treatment  of  the  Incarnation  as  a  general  truth  will  compel 
us  to  enquire  also  into  his  view  of  Jesus  as  a  historical 
person.  And  his  doctrine  of  Original  Sin  will  suggest  the 
question  of  the  similarity  of  his  ethical  system  to  that  generally 
associated  with  Christianity.  We  have  thus  six  points  to 
determine. 

209.  With  regard  to  the  Trinity  and  Personality  of  God, 
the  most  significant  point  in  Hegel's  philosophy  of  religion  is 
his  analysis  of  reality  into  a  triad  of  which  the  first  member  is 
again  analysed  into  another  triad.  Of  these  categories  of  the 
primary  triad  he  says,  "According  to  the  first  of  these,  God 
exists  in  a  pure  form  for  the  finite  spirit  only  as  thought.... 
This  is  the  Kingdom  of  the  Father.  The  second  characteristic 
is  the  Kingdom  of  the  Son,  in  which  God  exists,  in  a  general 
way,  for  figurative  thought  in  the  element  of  mental  pictures... 
Since,  however,  the  Divine  comes  into  view,  and  exists  for 
Spirit  in  history  of  this  kind,  this  history  has  no  longer  the 
character  of  outward  history;  it  becomes  divine  history,  the 
history  of  the  manifestation  of  God  Himself.  This  constitutes 
the  transition  to  the  Kingdom  of  the  Spirit,  in  which  we  have 
the  consciousness  that  Man  is  implicitly  reconciled  to  God,  and 
that  this  reconciliation  exists  for  Man^."  .  " 

The  importance  of  this  primary  triad  is  mainly  for  the 
doctrine  of  the  Personality  of  God,  and  we  must  therefore 
postpone  it  till  we  have  dealt  with  the  doctrine  of  the  divine 
Trinity.  This  is  connected  by  Hegel  with  the  secondary  triad 
into  which  he  analyses  the  Kingdom  of  the  Father.  "Within 
this  sphere  or  element,"  he  says,  "(1)  Determination  is  neces- 
sary, inasmuch  as  thought  in  general  is  different  from  thought 
which  comprehends  or  grasps  the  process  of  Spirit.  The 
eternal  Idea  in  its  essential  existence,  in-and-for-self,  is  present 
in  thought,  the  Idea  in  its  absolute  truth.... 

"For  sensuous  or  reflective  consciousness  God  cannot  exist 

^  Philosophy  of  Religion,  ii.  221 — 223  (trans,  iii.  4 — 6). 


200  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

as  God,  i.e.,  in  His  eternal  and  absolute  essentiality.  His 
manifestation  of  Himself  is  something  different  from  this,  and 
is  made  to  sensuous  consciousness.... Spirit  exists  for  the  spirit 
for  which  it  does  exist,  only  in  so  far  as  it  reveals  and  differ- 
entiates itself,  and  this  is  the  eternal  Idea,  thinking  Spirit, 
Spirit  in  the  element  of  its  freedom.  In  this  region  God  is  the 
self-revealer,  just  because  He  is  Spirit;  but  He  is  not  yet 
present  as  outward  manifestation.  That  God  exists  for  Spirit 
is  thus  an  essential  principle. 

"Spirit  is  what  thinks.  Within  this  pure  thought  the 
relation  is  of  an  immediate  kind,  and  there  exists  no  difference 
between  the  two  elements  to  diff'erentiate  them.  Nothing 
comes  between  them.  Thought  is  pure  unity  with  itself,  from 
which  all  that  is  obscure  and  dark  has  disappeared.  This  kind 
of  thought  may  also  be  called  pure  intuition,  as  being  the 
simple  form  of  the  activity  of  thought,  so  that  there  is  nothing 
between  the  subject  and  the  object,  as  these  two  do  not  yet 
really  exist.  This  kind  of  thought  has  no  limitation,  it  is 
universal  activity,  and  its  content  is  only  the  Universal  itself; 
it  is  pure  pulsation  within  itself. 

"  (2)  It,  however,  passes  further  into  the  stage  of  absolute 
Diremption.  How  does  this  differentiation  come  about? 
Thought  is,  actu,  unlimited.  The  element  of  difference  in  its 
most  immediate  form  consists  in  this,  that  the  two  sides  which 
we  have  seen  to  be  the  two  sorts  of  modes  in  which  the 
principle  appears,  show  their  difference  in  their  differing 
starting-points.  The  one  side,  subjective  thought,  is  the 
movement  of  thought  in  so  far  as  it  starts  from  immediate 
individual  Being,  and,  while  within  this,  raises  itself  to  what  is 
Universal  and  Infinite.... In  so  far  as  it  has  arrived  at  the  stage 
of  the  Universal,  thought  is  unlimited;  its  end  is  infinitely 
pure  thought,  so  that  all  the  mist  of  finitude  has  disappeared, 
and  it  here  thinks  God ;  every  trace  of  separation  has  vanished, 
and  thus  religion,  thinking  upon  God,  begins.  The  second  side 
is  that  which  has  for  its  starting-point  the  Universal,  the  result 
of  that  first  movement,  thought,  the  Notion.  The  Universal 
is,  however,  in  its  turn  again  an  inner  movement,  and  its 
nature   is   to   differentiate   itself   within   itself,    and   thus   to 


HEGELTANISM    AND    CHRISTIANITY  201 

preserve  within  itself  the  element  of  difference,  but  yet  to  do 
this  in  such  a  way  as  not  to  disturb  tlfe  universality  which  is 
also  there.  Here  universality  is  something  which  has  this 
element  of  difference  within  itself,  and  is  in  harmony  with 
itself.  This  represents  the  abstract  content  of  thought,  and 
this  abstract  thought  is  the  result  which  has  followed  from  what 
has  taken  place. 

"The  two  sides  are  thus  mutually  opposed  or  contrasted. 
Subjective  Thought,  the  thought  of  the  finite  spirit,  is  a  Process 
too,  inner  mediation ;  but  this  process  goes  on  outside  of  it,  or 
behind  it.  It  is  in  only  so  far  as  subjective  thought  has  raised 
itself  to  something  higher  that  religion  begins,  and  thus  what 
we  have  in  religion  is  pure  motionless  abstract  thought.  The 
concrete,  on  the  other  hand,  is  found  in  its  Object,  for  this  is 
the  kind  of  thought  which  starts  from  the  Universal,  which 
differentiates  itself,  and  consequently  is  in  harmony  with  itself. 
It  is  this  concrete  element  which  is  the  object  for  thought, 
taking  thought  in  a  general  sense.  This  kind  of  thought  is 
thus  abstract  thought,  and  consequently  the  finite,  for  the 
abstract  is  finite;  the  concrete  is  the  truth,  the  infinite 
object. 

"(3)  God  is  Spirit;  in  His  abstract  character  He  is 
characterised  as  universal  Spirit  which  particularises  itself. 
This  represents  the  absolute  truth,  and  that  religion  is  the 
true  one  which  possesses  this  content^." 

210.  It  is  this  triple  nature  in  God  which  Hegel  identifies 
with  the  triple  nature  expounded  in  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity. 
Thus  he  says,  "  This  eternal  Idea,  accordingly,  finds  expression 
in  the  Christian  religion  under  the  name  of  the  Holy  Trinity, 
and  this  is  God  Himself,  the  eternal  Triune  God^."  And,  in 
the  next  paragraph,  "  This  truth,  this  Idea,  has  been  called  the 
dogma  of  the  Trinity.  God  is  Spirit,  the  activity  of  pure 
thought,  the  activity  which  is  not  outside  of  itself,  which  is 
within  the  sphere  of  its  own  being^." 

And  certainly  the  two  doctrines  have  something  in  common. 
Both  of  them  make  God's  nature  to  be  triune,  and  both  of  them 

1  op.  cit.  ii.  224—226  (trans,  iii.  7—10). 

2  op.  cit.  ii.  227  (trans,  iii.  11). 


202  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

make  each  member  of  the  triad  to  be  vitally  and  inherently 
connected  with  the  other  two.  And  thus  Hegel  is  certainly; 
right  when  he  points  out  that  his  philosophy  resembles 
Christian  orthodoxy  in  rejecting  the  Deistic  conception  of  God 
as  an  undifferentiated  unity.  And,  again,  he  is  justified  when 
he  ranks  his  system  together  with  Christianity  as  possessing 
a  deeper  notion  of  the  triplicity  of  God  than  the  Hindoo 
religion.  For  in  the  latter  (at  any  rate  as  interpreted  by  Hegel) 
the  relation  of  the  three  moments  of  the  Godhead  towards  one 
another  is  comparatively  external^. 

211.  But  it  must  be  noticed  that  the  three  moments  of 
the  divine  nature  form,  for  Hegel,  a  triad  in  a  dialectic  process. 
The  division  into  the  three  moments  is  not  the  external  judg- 
ment of  an  external  observer  as  to  something  intrinsically 
undivided.  It  is,  on  the  contrary,  the  deepest  nature  of  God. 
Nor  are  the  three  moments  merely  juxtaposed  or  externally 
combined  in  God.  Each  has  only  meaning  in  relation  to  the 
others,  and  the  existence  of  one  of  the  three  presupposes  the 
existence  of  the  other  two.  From  the  existence  of  one,  that  is, 
we  can  deduce  a  priori  the  existence  of  the  others.  Now  the 
only  way  in  which  our  thought  can  reach,  a  jpriori,  a  conclusion 
which  is  not  contained  in  the  premises  from  which  it  starts,  is, 
according  to  Hegel,  the  dialectic  method. 

The  following  passages  may  serve  to  illustrate  the  fact  that 
Hegel  regarded  the  three  moments  of  the  Godhead  as  the  terms 
of  a  dialectic  triad.  Immediately  after  giving  the  account  of 
the  three  moments  quoted  above,  he  continues,  "Spirit  is  the 
process  referred  to ;  it  is  movement,  life ;  its  nature  is  to 
differentiate  itself,  to  give  itself  a  definite  character,  to  deter- 
mine itself ;  and  the  first  form  of  the  differentiation  consists  in 
this,  that  Spirit  appears  as  the  universal  Idea  itself^."  Here 
the  process  from  moment  to  moment  of  the  divine  nature  is 
identified  with  the  movement  of  Spirit  as  a  whole,  and  this 
movement  can,  for  Hegel,  be  nothing  else  but  a  dialectic 
process. 

^  Cp.  Hegel's  account  of  the  Hindoo  religion  in  Part  II  of  the  Philosophy  of 
Religion;  also  ii.  242  (trans,  iii.  28);  and  the  Greater  Logic,  i.  397. 
^  op.  cit.  ii.  226  (trans,  iii.  10). 


HEGELIANISM    AND    CHRISTIANITY  203 

Again  he  says  that  God  "is  the  eternal  Process... that  this 
should  be  consciously  known  as  the  entire  and  absolute  truth, 
the  truth  in-and-for  itself,  is,  however,  just  the  work  of 
philosophy,  and  is  the  entire  content  of  philosophy.  In  it 
it  is  seen  how  all  that  constitutes  Nature  and  Spirit  presses 
forward  in  a  dialectic  form  to  this  central  point  as  to  its 
absolute  truth.  Here  we  are  not  concerned  to  prove  that  the 
dogma,  this  silent  mystery,  is  the  eternal  Truth.  That  is  done, 
as  has  been  said,  in  the  whole  of  philosophy i."  The  "eternal 
Process"  in  question  had  been  explained  just  before  to  be  that 
of  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit.  Now  if  this  is  "the  entire  content 
of  philosophy,"  and  to  it  all  Nature  and  Spirit  "presses  forward 
in  a  dialectic  form,"  the  process  must  be  dialectic. 

Still  speaking  of  the  Trinity,  he  says,  "It  is  characteristic 
of  the  logical  sphere  in  which  this  shows  itself  that  it  is  the 
nature  of  every  definite  conception  or  notion  to  annul  itself,  to 
be  its  own  contradiction,  and  consequently  to  appear  as  different 
from  itself,  and  to  posit  itself  as  such^."  This  is  a  description 
which  exactly  corresponds  with  the  description  of  the  dialectic 
process  to  be  found  in  the  Logic. 

Once  more,  when  speaking  of  the  objections  brought  by  the 
understanding  against  the  triplicity  of  the  divine  nature,  he 
says  "If... we  regard  the  matter  from  the  point  of  view  of  logic, 
we  see  that  the  One  has  inner  dialectic  movement,  and  is  not 
truly  independent^."     (The  italics  are  Hegel's.) 

The  Trinity,  therefore,  is  for  Hegel  a  dialectic  process.  It 
is  not  one  of  the  chain  of  triads  which  form  the  Logic.  A 
dialectic  process  can  begin  wherever  pure  thought  asserts  an 
inadequate  idea — in  this  case,  the  idea  of  God  the  Father — of 
reality.  And  this  particular  inadequate  idea  is  not  one  of  those 
through  which  we  pass  from  Being  to  the  Absolute  Idea.  But 
all  dialectic  processes,  if  complete,  must  have  the  same  end. 
For  there  is  only  one  Absolute  Idea,  and  none  but  the  Absolute 
Idea  is  free  from  contradiction.  And  accordingly  we  can  see 
that    the    third    moment    of    the    Trinity — the    Synthesis — is 

^  op.  cit.  ii.  229  (trans,  iii.  13). 

2  op.  cit.  ii.  232  (trans,  iii.  16). 

3  op.  cit.  ii.  238  (trans,  iii.  23). 


204  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

identical  with  the  Absolute  Idea,  which  is  the  final  Synthesis 
of  the  Logic.  (The  Philosophy  of  Rehgion  as  a  whole  does 
not  stop  where  the  Logic  does.  It  proceeds  to  more  concrete 
forms.  But  it  does  this  in  the  Kingdoms  of  the  Son  and  of  the 
Spirit.  The  Kingdom  of  the  Father,  which  contains  the  abstract 
ideas  of  all  three  moments  of  the  Trinity,  is,  like  the  subject 
matter  of  the  Logic,  pure  thought  only.) 

212.  In  every  dialectic  triad  it  is  certain  that  the  Synthesis 
contains  all  the  truth  which  there  is  in  the  triad  at  all.  The 
Thesis  and  Antithesis  are  not  devoid  of  all  truth.  But  then 
the  Thesis  and  Antithesis  are  transcended  and  reconciled  in  the 
Synthesis.  In  so  far  as  they  are  true,  they  are  contained  in 
the  Synthesis.  In  so  far  as  they  assert  themselves  to  be  any- 
thing more  than  moments  in  the  Synthesis,  in  so  far  as  they 
claim  to  be  independent  terms,  only  externally  connected  with 
the  Synthesis — in  so  far  they  are  false.  There  can  be  no 
doubt,  I  think,  that  this  was  Hegel's  view,  and  that,  on  any 
other  view,  the  dialectic  process  is  invalid^. 

213.  According  to  Hegel's  exposition,  the  Father  and  the 
Son  are  the  Thesis  and  Antithesis  of  a  triad  of  which  the  Holy 
Ghost  is  the  Synthesis.  It  will  follow  from  this  that  the  Holy 
Ghost  is  the  sole  reality  of  the  Trinity.  In  so  far  as  the  Father 
and  the  Son  are  real,  they  are  moments  in  the  nature  of  the 
Holy  Ghost.  In  so  far  as  they  are  taken  as  correlative  with 
the  Holy  Ghost,  and  as  on  the  same  level  with  the  latter,  they 
are  taken  wrongly  and  are  not  real.  In  other  words,  the  Father 
and  the  Son  are  simply  abstractions  which  the  thinker  makes 
from  the  concrete  reality  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

This  may  be  the  correct  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  but  it  is 
not  the  usual  one.  It  must  be  noticed  that  it  does  not  merely 
place  the  Holy  Ghost  above  the  other  two  members  of  the 
Trinity,  but  merges  these  latter  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  is 
therefore  not  only  the  supreme  reality,  but  the  sole  reality  of 
God.  And,  again,  the  doctrine  is  more  than  the  assertion  that 
the  relation  of  the  members  of  the  Trinity  is  not  merely  external. 
Doubtless  it  is  not  merely  external,  but  internal  and  essential. 

^  Cp.  Studies  in  the  Hegelian  Dialectic,  Sections  6,  94. 


HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY  205 

But  the  point  is  as  to  the  particular  sort  of  relation.  The 
Father  and  the  Son  are  related  to  the  Holy  Ghost  as  something 
which  is  they,  and  more  than  they.  But  the  Holy  Ghost  is 
related  to  the  Father  and  the  Son — if  it  is  to  be  called  a 
relation — in  a  very  dift'eient  manner.  Each  of  them,  so  far 
as  it  is  real  at  all,  is  the  Holy  Ghost.  But  each  of  them  is 
less  than  the  Holy  Ghost.  And  so  are  both  of  them  taken 
together. 

The  fact  is  that,  although  the  movement  of  the  dialectic 
is  properly  described  as  triple,  its  results  are  not.  The  result 
of  a  triad  is  a  single  truth  in  which  two  complementary  moments 
can  be  distinguished.  To  call  this  triple  is  incorrect,  as  it  places 
the  whole  and  its  parts  on  the  same  level.  It  would  be  absurd 
to  say  that  the  nature  of  Parliament  was  quadruple,  on  the 
ground  that  it  consisted  of  Sovereign,  Lords,  Commons,  and 
Parliament.  And  although  the  Synthesis  of  a  tiiad  is  more 
independent  of  its  moments  than  Parliament  is  of  its  three 
parts,  yet  those  moments  are  less  independent  of  the  Synthesis 
than  the  parts  are  of  Parliament,  so  that  the  impropriety  of 
counting  whole  and  parts  in  one  aggregate  is  as  great  in  one 
case  as  in  the  other.  In  all  this  there  is  nothing,  I  think, 
which  makes  Hegel  at  all  inconsistent  with  himself.  But  it 
takes  us  a  good  way  from  the  ordinary  doctrine  of  the  Trinity. 

214.  We  now  pass  to  our  second  question — the  Personality 
of  God.  We  must  begin  by  considering  the  nature  of  the 
primary  triad  of  the  Philosophy  of  Religion,  which  we  tem- 
porarily postponed.  Of  this  Hegel  says,  "We  have,  speaking 
generally,  to  consider  the  Idea  as  the  divine  self-revelation,  and 
this  revelation  is  to  be  taken  in  the  sense  indicated  by  the  three 
categories  just  mentioned. 

"According  to  the  first  of  these,  God  exists  in  a  pure  form 
for  the  finite  spirit  only  as  thought.  This  is  the  theoretical 
consciousness  in  which  the  thinking  subject  exists  in  a  condition 
of  absolute  composure,  and  is  not  yet  posited  in  this  relation, 
not  yet  posited  in  the  form  of  a  process,  but  exists  in  the 
absolutely  unmoved  calm  of  the  thinking  spirit.  Here,  for 
Spirit,  God  is  thought  of,  and  Spirit  thus  rests  in  the  simple 
conclusion  that  He  brings  Himself  into  harmony  with  Himself 


206  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

by  means  of  His  difference — which,  however,  here  exists  only 
in  the  form  of  pure  ideahty,  and  has  not  yet  reached  the  force 
of  externahty — and  is  in  immediate  unity  with  Himself.  This 
is  the  first  of  these  relations,  and  it  exists  solely  for  the  thinking 
subject  which  is  occupied  with  the  pure  content  only.  This  is 
the  Kingdom  of  the  Father. 

"The  second  characteristic  is  the  Kingdom  of  the  Son,  in 
which  God  exists,  in  a  general  way,  for  figurative  thought  in  the 
element  of  mental  pictures  or  ideas.  This  is  the  moment  of 
separation  or  particularisation  in  general.  Looked  at  from  this 
second  standpoint,  what  in  the  first  place  represented  God's 
Other  or  object,  without,  however,  being  defined  as  such,  now 
receives  the  character  or  determination  of  an  Other.  Considered 
from  the  first  standpoint,  God  as  the  Son  is  not  distinguished 
from  the  Father,  but  what  is  stated  of  Him  is  expressed  merely 
in  terms  of  feeling.  In  connection  with  the  second  element, 
however,  the  Son  is  characterised  as  an  Other  or  object,  and 
thus  we  pass  out  of  the  pure  ideality  of  Thought  into  the  region 
of  figurative  thought.  If,  according  to  the  first  characterisation, 
God  begets  only  one  Son,  here  he  produces  Nature.  Here  the 
Other  is  Nature,  and  the  element  of  difference  thus  receives  its 
justification.  What  is  thus  differentiated  is  Nature,  the  world 
in  general,  and  Spirit  which  is  related  to  it,  the  natural  Spirit. 
Here  the  element  which  we  have  already  designated  Subject 
comes  in,  and  itseK  constitutes  the  content.  Man  is  here 
involved  in  the  content.  Since  Man  is  here  related  to  Nature, 
and  is  himself  natural,  he  has  this  character  only  within  the 
sphere  of  religion,  and  consequently  we  have  here  to  consider 
Nature  and  Man  from  the  point  of  view  of  rehgion.  The  Son 
comes  into  the  world,  and  this  is  the  beginning  of  faith.  When 
we  speak  of  the  coming  of  the  Son  into  the  world  we  are  already 
using  the  language  of  faith.  God  cannot  really  exist  for  the 
finite  spirit  as  such,  for  in  the  very  fact  that  God  exists  for  it 
is  directly  involved  that  the  finite  spirit  does  not  maintain  its 
finitude  as  something  having  Being,  but  that  it  stands  in  a 
certain  relation  to  Spirit  and  is  reconciled  to  God.  In  its 
character  as  the  finite  spirit  it  is  represented  as  in  a  state  of 
revolt   and   separation   with  regard   to   God.      It  is  thus  in 


HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY  207 

contradiction  with  what  is  its  own  object  and  content,  and 
in  this  contradiction  lies  the  necessity  for  its  abolition  and 
elevation  to  a  higher  form.  The  necessity  for  this  supplies 
the  starting-point,  and  the  next  step  in  advance  is  that  God 
exists  for  Spirit,  that  the  divine  content  presents  itself  in  a 
pictorial  form  to  Spirit.  Here,  however.  Spirit  exists  at  the 
same  time  in  an  empirical  and  finite  form,  and  thus  what  God 
is  appears  to  Spirit  in  an  empirical  way.  Since,  however,  the 
Divine  comes  into  view,  and  exists  for  Spirit  in  history  of  this 
kind,  this  history  has  no  longer  the  character  of  outward 
history ;  it  becomes  divine  history,  the  history  of  the  Mani- 
festation of  God  Himself.  This  constitutes  the  transition  to 
the  Kingdom  of  the  Spirit,  in  which  we  have  the  consciousness 
that  Man  is  implicitly  reconciled  to  God,  and  that  this  re- 
conciliation exists  for  Man^." 

215.  These  three  stages,  like  the  three  subdivisions  of  the 
Kingdom  of  the  Father,  which  we  have  considered  above,  are 
for  Hegel  a  dialectic  process.  For  he  clearly  holds  that  the 
movement  from  the  j&rst  to  the  second,  and  from  the  second 
to  the  third,  is  intrinsically  necessary,  and  can  be  deduced 
a  priori.  And,  as  was  remarked  above,  the  dialectic  method 
is  for  Hegel  the  only  way  in  which  our  thought  can  reach 
a  priori  to  a  conclusion  which  is  not  contained  in  the  premises 
from  which  it  starts. 

The  following  passages  will  illustrate  the  view  which  Hegel 
takes  of  the  connection  between  the  three  "  Kingdoms."  "  The 
Notion  as  well  as  Being,  the  world,  the  finite,  are  equally 
one-sided  determinations,  each  of  which  changes  round  into 
the  other,  and  appears  at  one  time  as  a  moment  without 
independence,  and  at  another  as  producing  the  other  deter- 
mination which  it  carries  within  itself  2." 

Again,  when  he  is  speaking  of  the  transition  from  the 
Kingdom  of  the  Son  to  the  Kingdom  of  the  Spirit,  he  says, 
"These  are  the  moments  with  which  we  are  here  concerned, 
and   which    express    the   truth    that    Man    has    come    to    a 


^  Philosophy  of  Religion,  ii.  221 — 223  (trans,  iii,  4 — 6). 
*  op.  cit.  ii.  210  (trans,  ii.  349). 


208  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

consciousness  of  that  eternal  history,  that  eternal  movement 
which  God  Himself  is. 

"This  is  the  description  of  the  second  Idea  as  Idea  in 
outward  manifestation,  and  of  how  the  eternal  Idea  has  come 
to  exist  for  the  immediate  certainty  of  Man,  i.e.,  of  how  it 
has  appeared  in  history.  The  fact  that  it  is  a  certainty  for 
man  necessarily  implies  that  it  is  material  or  sensuous  certainty, 
but  one  which  at  the  same  time  passes  over  into  spiritual 
consciousness,  and  for  the  same  reason  is  converted  into  im- 
mediate sensuousness,  but  in  such  a  way  that  we  recognize 
in  it  the  movement,  the  history  of  God,  the  life  which  God 
Himself  isi." 

The  fact  is  that  the  triad  we  are  considering  is  identical 
with  the  triad  of  Logic,  Nature,  and  Spirit  which  forms  the 
whole  content  of  the  Encyclopaedia,  and  this  triad  is  un- 
questionably dialectic^. 

216.  Now  if  this  triad  is  a  dialectic  process  which  exhibits 
the  nature  of  God,  it  will  follow  that  if  God  is  really  personal, 
he  must  be  personal  in  the  Kingdom  of  the  Spirit.  For  that 
is  the  Synthesis,  and  in  that  alone,  therefore,  do  we  get  an 
adequate  representation  of  God's  nature.  If  he  were  personal 
as  manifested  in  the  first  and  second  Kingdoms,  but  not  in 
the  third,  it  would  mean  that  he  was  personal  when  viewed 
inadequately,  but  not  when  viewed  adequately — i.e.,  that  he 
was  not  really  personal. 

In  support  of  the  statement  that  God  is  only  adequately 
known  when  he  is  known  in  the  Kingdom  of  the  Spirit,  we 
may  quote  the  following  passages,  "  In  the  Ego,  as  in  that  which 
is  annulling  itself  as  finite,  God  returns  to  Himself,  and  only  as 
this  return  is  He  God.     Without  the  world  God  is  not  God^." 

And  again,  "God  regarded  as  Spirit,  when  He  remains 
above,  when  He  is  not  present  in  His  Church  as  a  living 
Spirit,  is  Himself  characterised  in  a  merely  one-sided  way  as 
object^." 

1  op.  cit.  ii.  308  (trans,  iii.  100). 

^  Cp.  Studies  in  the  Hegelian  Dialectic,  Sections  98 — 100,  131 — 132. 

^  Philosophy  of  Religion,  i.  194  (trans,  i.  200). 

*  op.  cit.  ii.  197  (trans,  ii.  334). 


HEGELIANISM    AND    CHRISTIANITY  209 

Again,  "It  is  not  in  immediate  Appearance  or  manifestation, 
but  only  when  Spirit  has  taken  up  its  abode  in  the  Church, 
when  it  is  immediate,  believing  Spirit,  and  raises  itself  to  the 
stage  of  thought,  that  the  Idea  reaches  perfection^." 

And,  again,  "Spirit  is  infinite  return  into  self,  infinite 
subjectivity,  not  Godhead  conceived  by  means  of  figurative 
ideas,  but  the  real  present  Godhead,  and  thus  it  is  not  the 
substantial  potentiality  of  the  Father,  not  the  True  in  the 
objective  or  antithetical  form  of  the  Son,  but  the  subjective 
Present  and  Real,  which,  just  because  it  is  subjective,  is 
present,  as  estrangement  into  that  objective,  sensuous  repre- 
sentation of  love  and  of  its  infinite  sorrow,  and  as  return,  in 
that  mediation.  This  is  the  Spirit  of  God,  or  God  as  present, 
real  Spirit,  God  dwelling  in  His  Church^." 

217.  It  is  in  the  Kingdom  of  the  Spirit,  then,  that  we 
must  look  for  an  adequate  representation  of  God's  nature. 
Now  is  God  represented  here  as  personal? 

The  Kingdom  of  the  Spirit,  according  to  Hegel,  is  the 
Church.  Thus  he  says,  "The  third  stage  is  represented  by 
the  inner  place,  the  Spiritual  Community,  existing  at  first  in 
the  world,  but  at  the  same  time  raising  itself  up  to  heaven, 
and  which  as  a  Church  already  has"  God  "in  itself  here  on 
earth,  full  of  grace,  active  and  present  in  the  world."  And 
in  the  next  paragraph,  "The  third  element  is  the  present, 
yet  it  is  only  the  limited  present,  not  the  eternal  present, 
but  rather  the  present  which  distinguishes  itself  from  the 
past  and  future,  and  represents  the  element  of  feeling,  of  the 
immediate  subjectivity  of  the  present  spiritual  Being.  The 
present,  must,  however,  also  represent  the  third  element;  the 
Church  raises  itself  to  Heaven  too,  and  thus  the  Present  is 
one  which  raises  itself  as  well  and  is  essentially  reconciled, 
and  is  brought  by  means  of  the  negation  of  its  immediacy 
to  a  perfected  form  as  universality,  a  perfection  or  completion 
which,  however,  does  not  yet  exist,  and  which  is  thereupon 
to  be  conceived  of  as  future.  It  is  a  Now  of  the  present  whose 
perfect  stage  is  before  it,  but  this  perfect  stage  is  distinguished 

^  o'p.  cit.  ii.  242  (trans,  iii.  28). 
2  op.  cit.  ii.  315  (trans,  iii.  107). 


210  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

from  the  particular  Now  which  is  still  immediacy,  and  it  is 
thought  of  as  future  ^" 

The  Kingdom  of  the  Spirit,  then,  consists  in  the  Spiritual 
Community,  or  Church  {Die  Gemeinde).  Of  course,  the  Church 
as  we  have  it  now  and  here  is  far  too  imperfect  to  be  con- 
sidered as  an  adequate  representation  of  God.  But  then  this 
Church  is  only,  Hegel  tells  us,  an  imperfect  form  of  that 
perfected  Community,  which  from  one  point  of  view  is  eternally 
present,  while  from  another  point  of  view  it  must  be  conceived 
as  being  in  the  future.  It  is  this  perfect  community  which 
is  the  true  Kingdom  of  the  Spirit.  But  in  becoming  perfect 
it  does  not,  for  Hegel,  cease  to  be  a  community. 

218.  God,  then,  if  represented  adequately  is  a  community. 
Can  a  community  be  a  person?  Surely  the  answer  to  this 
is  certain.  A  community  is  composed  of  persons.  A  perfect 
community  may  be  as  complete  a  unity  as  any  person.  But 
a  community  cannot  be  a  person,  and  the  fact  that  it  is  a 
perfect  community,  and  a  perfect  unity,  does  not  make  it  at 
all  more  possible  for  it  to  be  a  person^. 

There  is  no  reason  to  doubt  that  Hegel  saw  this.  For  he 
never  speaks  of  the  Community  in  such  a  way  as  to  suggest 
that  it  is  a  person.  And  his  choice  of  words  is  significant. 
For  his  vocabulary  was  rich  with  terms  for  a  unity,  which 
would  suggest,  or  at  least  not  exclude  the  suggestion  of,  a 
personal  unity.  He  chose,  however,  a  word — Gemeinde — whose 
ordinary  meaning  quite  excludes  any  idea  of  personal  unity. 
It  is  surely  a  fair  inference  that  he  wished  to  exclude  that 
idea. 

Again,  in  speaking  of  the  unity  by  which  the  individuals 
who  compose  the  Community  are  united,  he  always  calls  it 
Love.  Now,  if  the  Community,  besides  being  a  unity  of 
persons,  was  itself  a  person,  its  members,  though  they  might 
be  connected  by  love,  would  also  be  connected  by  something 
very  different — a  personal  unity.  And  the  fact  that  no  bond 
but  love  is  mentioned  is  therefore  in  favour  of  the  theory  that 
he  did  not  conceive  the  Community  as  a  person. 

1  op.  cit.  ii.  221  (trans,  iii.  3—4). 

2  C^.  above.  Sections  79—83. 


HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY  211 

219.  It  is  to  be  noticed  in  connection  with  this,  that 
Hegel,  unlike  many  philosophers  and  theologians,  uses  the 
word  love,  in  his  philosophical  writings,  in  the  same  sense 
in  which  he  and  other  men  use  it  elsewhere.  It  may  be 
useful  to  quote  what  he  says  on  this  subject.  In  the  first 
place,  since  love  is  what  unites  men  into  the  Community  which 
is  God,  as  God  really  is,  we  shall  get  a  more  definite  notion 
of  the  Community  by  seeing  precisely  what  is  meant  by  love. 
In  the  second  place,  we  may  be  able  to  get  some  fresh  light 
on  the  charge  against  Hegel  of  substituting  cold  and  im- 
personal abstractions  for  the  vivid  and  personal  realities  of 
popular  religion. 

"Love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself.  This  command,"  says 
Hegel,  '"thought  of  in  the  abstract  and  more  extended. sense 
as  embracing  the  love  of  men  in  general,  is  a  command  to 
love  all  men.  Taken  in  this  sense,  however,  it  is  turned  into 
an  abstraction.  The  people  whom  one  can  love,  and  for  whom 
our  love  is  real,  are  a  few  particular  individuals ;  the  heart 
which  seeks  to  embrace  the  whole  of  humanity  within  itself 
indulges  in  a  vain  attempt  to  spread  out  its  love  till  it  becomes 
a  mere  idea,  the  opposite  of  real  love^." 

What,  then,  is  this  love  which  the  individuals  of  the 
Community  feel  for  one  another?  This  love,  he  tells  us 
later,  "is  neither  human  love,  philanthropy,  the  love  of  the 
sexes,  nor  friendship.  Surprise  has  often  been  expressed  that 
such  a  noble  relationship  as  friendship  is  does  not  find  a  place 
amongst  the  duties  enjoined  by  Christ.  Friendship  is  a  re- 
lationship which  is  tinged  with  particularity,  and  men  are 
friends  not  so  much  directly  as  objectively,  through  some 
substantial  bond  of.  union  in  a  third  thing,  in  fundamental 
principles,  studies,  knowledge ;  the  bond,  in  short,  is  constituted 
by  something  objective ;  it  is  not  attachment  as  such,  like  that 
of  the  man  to  the  woman  as  a  definite  particular  personality. 
The  love  of  the  Spiritual  Community,  on  the  other  hand,  is 
directly  mediated  by  the  worthlessness  of  all  particularity. 
The  love  of  the  man  for  the  woman,  or  friendship,  can  certainly 

^  op.  cit.  ii  292  (trans,  iii.  83).     The  italics  are  Hegel's. 

14—2 


212  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

exist,  but  they  are  essentially  characterised  as  subordinate; 
they  are  characterised  not  indeed  as  something  evil,  but  as 
something  imperfect;  not  as  something  indifferent,  but  as 
representing  a  state  in  which  we  are  not  to  remain  perma- 
nently, since  they  are  themselves  to  be  sacrificed,  and  must 
not  in  any  way  injuriously  affect  that  absolute  tendency  and 
unity  which  belongs  to  Spirit^." 

220.  It  may  seem  at  first  sight  rather  difficult  to  tell 
what  this  love  can  be,  since  it  must  be  for  particular  indi- 
viduals, and  yet  is  neither  to  be  friendship  nor  sexual  love. 
But  we  must  notice  that  Hegel  gives  a  curiously  narrow 
definition  of  friendship,  excluding  from  it  all  affection  which 
is  fixed  on  the  friend  himself,  and  not  on  his  qualities  and 
relations — that  affection  which  neither  finds  nor  seeks  any 
justification  beyond  its  own  existence.  This,  which  many 
people  would  call  friendship,  is,  I  think,  the  love  which  Hegel 
regards  as  the  bond  which  holds  God  together.  It  is,  of  course, 
compatible  at  present  with  friendship,  in  the  Hegelian  sense, 
as  it  is  compatible  at  present  with  sexual  attraction,  but  it 
has,  as  Hegel  remarks  in  the  last  quoted  passage,  a  significance 
sub  specie  aeternitatis  which  does  not  extend  to  them. 

221.  It  will  be  remembered  that  in  the  first  of  these  two 
passages  it  is  said  that  a  man  can  only  love  "a  few  particular 
individuals"  {einige  Besondere),  while  in  the  second  he  states 
love  to  be  "mediated  by  the  worthlessness  of  all  particularity  " 
{die  WerthlosigJceit  aller  Besonderheit).  The  inconsistency  is, 
I  think,  only  apparent.  In  the  first  passage  he  was  differenti- 
ating true  love  from  the  spurious  universality  of  a  love  for 
humanity,  and  here  he  seems  to  use  "Besonderheit"  simply 
as  generally  opposed  to  "alle  Menschen."  His  object  is  to 
point  out  that  the  love  of  each  man  must  be  for  this  and  that 
other  man,  and  that  the  number  of  these  for  each  of  us  is 
limited.  It  is  impossible  that  he  should  have  meant  that  our 
love  is  real  only  when  we  love  men  in  their  particularity,  in 
the  special  sense  in  which  he  uses  Particularity  in  the  Logic. 
For  Particularity  in  that  sense  is  always  used  by  Hegel  to 

^  op.  cit.  ii.  314  (trans,  iii.  106). 


HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY  213 

denote  inadequacy  and  error.  It  would  be  equivalent  to  saying 
that  the  only  leal  love  was  love  of  men  as  they  really  are  not. 
In  the  second  passage,  however,  he  appears  to  use  Par- 
ticularity in  this  more  definite  sense,  according  to  which  it 
is  distinguished,  not  only  from  Universality,  but  also  from 
Individuality.  In  this  sense,  to  regard  a  person  as  particular 
is  to  regard  him  as  contingently  and  externally  determined, 
not  as  a  self-determining  unity  with  an  immanent  universality. 
In  this  sense  of  the  word,  all  real  love  would  have  to  be 
mediated  by  the  worthlessness  of  Particularity.  But  the  result 
attained  would  be  the  conception  of  every  person  as  a  true 
Individual — a  conception  which  unites  and  transcends  Uni- 
versality and  Particularity.  And  this  agrees  with  the  previous 
assertion  that  true  love  can  only  be  for  another  person  as  that 
person. 

222.  To  return  from  this  digression.  We  have  thus  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  Hegel  holds  that  view  as  to  the  per- 
sonality of  God  which  I  endeavoured  (chapter  iii)  to  show 
was  the  logical  consequence  of  his  views  on  the  general  nature 
of  reality.  God  is  not  personal.  For  God  is  identical  with 
Absolute  Reality,  and  Absolute  Reality  can  only  be  adequately 
conceived  as  a  society  of  persons,  which  itself  is  a  perfect  unity, 
but  not  a  person. 

Several  circumstances  have  combined  to  prevent  this  inter- 
pretation of  Hegel's  meaning  from  being  generally  accepted.  The 
first  of  these  is  his  use  of  the  word  God  to  designate  Absolute 
Reality.  In  ordinary  language,  we  mean  by  God  a  person. 
We  most  emphatically  do  not  mean  a  society.  And  there  is 
a  vague  idea,  which  has  not  been  without  influence  on  the 
interpretation  of  Hegel,  that  a  man  who  talked  so  much  about 
God  must  have  believed  God  to  be  a  person.  But  this  error 
is  gratuitous.  For  Hegel  tells  us  plainly  and  repeatedly  that 
by  God  he  means  simply  Absolute  Reality,  whatever  that  may 
be.  And  it  is  our  own  fault  if  we  take  his  language  as 
implying  a  particular  theory  about  the  nature  of  Absolute 
Reality. 

223.  There  is  a  similar,  but  less  obvious  mistake,  which 
often  leads  enquirers  into  a  similar  error.    If  God  is  simply 


214  HEGELIANISM   AND   CHRISTIANITY 

Absolute  Reality,  then,  it  is  said,  everything  which  exists  must 
be  God.  But  such  pantheism  is  a  belief  against  which  Hegel 
continually  and  most  emphatically  protests. 

We  must,  however,  make  a  distinction.  The  pantheism 
against  which  Hegel  protests  is  that  which  deifies  the  mass 
of  our  everyday  experience,  taken  as  a  mere  aggregate  of 
separate  units,  and  taken  in  the  inadequate  and  contradictory 
forms  in  which  it  presents  itself  in  everyday  experience.  This 
is  certainly  not  Hegel's  conception  of  God.  God,  according 
to  him,  is  a  perfect  unity,  and  is  Spirit.  God  is  certainly  not 
the  aggregate  of  "facts"  of  uncritical  experience.  But  it  does 
not  follow  that  God  is  not  identical  with  the  whole  of  Absolute 
Reality.  For  Absolute  Reality  is  by  no  means,  for  Hegel,  the 
aggregate  of  these  facts.  Such  facts  are  merely  a  mistaken 
and  inadequate  view  of  Absolute  Reality,  not  devoid,  of  course, 
of  all  truth,  but  requiring  enormous  transformation  and  re- 
construction before  they  can  be  fully  true.  And  therefore  the 
undoubted  truth  that  God  is  not  identical  with  them,  when 
they  are  taken  in  this  way,  is  no  argument  against  the  identity 
of  God  with  Absolute  Reality. 

224.  Again,  it  is  supposed  that  if  Hegel  holds  God  to  be 
Spirit — which  he  unquestionably  does — he  must  also  consider 
God  to  be  a  person,  or  else  hold  that  Spirit — at  any  rate  in 
its  highest  form — is  not  personal.  But  this  is  not  an  exhaustive 
dilemma.  For,  as  I  have  endeavoured  to  show,  Hegel  regards 
God  as  a  unity  of  persons,  though  not  as  a  person.  All  Spirit 
is  personal,  but  it  is  many  persons,  not  one  person,  although 
it  is  as  really  one  Spirit  as  it  is  many  persons. 

In  illustration  of  this  we  may  quote  the  following  passages : 
"We  have  now  reached  the  realised  notion  or  conception  of 
religion,  the  perfect  religion,  in  which  it  is  the  notion  itself 
that  is  its  own  object.  We  defined  religion  as  being  in  the 
stricter  sense  the  self-consciousness  of  God.  Self-consciousness 
in  its  character  as  consciousness  has  an  object,  and  it  is 
conscious  of  itself  in  this  object;  this  object  is  also  conscious- 
ness, but  it  is  consciousness  as  object,  and  is  consequently 
finite  consciousness,  a  consciousness  which  is  distinct  from 
God,  from  the  Absolute.    The  element  of  determinateness  is 


HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY  215 

present  in  this  form  of  consciousness,  and  consequently  finitude 
is  present  in  it;  God  is  self-consciousness,  He  knows  Himself 
in  a  consciousness  which  is  distinct  from  Him,  which  is 
potentially  the  consciousness  of  God,  but  is  also  this  actually, 
since  it  knows  its  identity  with  God,  an  identity  which  is, 
however,  mediated  by  the  negation  of  finitude.  It  is  this 
notion  or  conception  which  constitutes  the  content  of  religion. 
We  define  God  when  we  say,  that  He  distinguishes  Himself 
from  Himself,  and  is  an  object  for  Himself,  but  that  in  this 
distinction  He  is  purely  identical  with  Himself,  is  in  fact 
Spirit.  This  notion  or  conception  is  now  realised,  consciousness 
knows  this  content  and  knows  that  it  is  itself  absolutely  inter- 
woven with  this  content;  in  the  Notion  which  is  the  process 
of  God,  it  is  itself  a  moment.  Finite  consciousness  knows  God 
only  to  the  extent  to  which  God  knows  Himself  in  it;  thus 
God  is  Spirit,  the  Spirit  of  His  Church  in  fact,  i.e.,  of  those 
who  worship  Him.  This  is  the  perfect  religion,  the  Notion 
becomes  objective  to  itself^."  I  should  like  to  point  out  in 
passing  that  this  passage  forms  the  best  comment  on  the 
definition  of  the  Absolute  Idea  in  the  Smaller  Logic.  (En- 
cyclopaedia, Section  236.) 

Again,  "Man  knows  God  only  in  so  far  as  God  Himself 
knows  Himself  in  Man.  This  knowledge  is  God's  self-con- 
sciousness, but  it  is  at  the  same  time  a  knowledge  of  God 
on  the  part  of  Man,  and  this  knowledge  of  God  by  Man  is 
a  knowledge  of  Man  by  God.  The  Spirit  of  Man,  whereby 
he  knows  God,  is  simply  the  Spirit  of  God  Himself  2." 

225.  The  third  question  which  we  have  to  consider  is 
Hegel's  treatment  of  the  Incarnation.  It  is  the  nature  of  the 
Absolute  Spirit  to  manifest  itself  in  a  multiplicity  of  in- 
dividuals, each  of  whom  is  a  self-conscious  person.  This  is 
an  eternal  and  adequate  characteristic  of  Spirit.  But,  besides 
this,  Spirit,  Hegel  tells  us,  manifests  itself  in  the  form  of 
finitude.  It  must  be  remembered  that  finitude,  for  Hegel, 
does  not  merely  mean  that  the  finite  thing  has  something 
else  outside  it,  and  is  not  unlimited.    It  means  that  its  limits 

^  op.  cit.  ii.  191  (trans,  ii.  327). 
2  op.  cit.  ii.  496  (trans,  iii.  303). 


216  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

are  imposed  on  it  from  without,  and  are  not  a  consequence 
of  its  own  nature — that  it  is  determined  by  another,  and  not 
determined  by  self.  This  is  an  inadequate  and  untrue  de- 
scription of  reality,  and  accordingly  the  manifestation  of  God 
in  this  form  of  finitude  is  not  to  be  found  in  the  Kingdom 
of  the  Spirit — the  sphere  in  which  God's  true  nature  is  known. 
It  finds  a  place  in  the  Kingdom  of  the  Son  ^. 

"We  thus,"  Hegel  says,  "enter  the  sphere  of  determination, 
enter  space  and  the  world  of  finite  Spirit.  This  may  be  more 
definitely  expressed  as  a  positing  or  bringing  into  view  of  the 
determinations  or  specific  qualities,  as  a  difi^erence  which  is 
momentarily  maintained ;  it  is  an  act  of  going  out  on  the  part 
of  God  into  finitude,  an  act  of  manifestation  of  God  in  finitude, 
for  finitude,  taken  in  its  proper  meaning,  implies  simply  the 
separation  of  that  which  is  implicitly  identical,  but  which  main- 
tains itself  in  the  act  of  separation.  Regarded  from  the  other 
side,  that  of  subjective  Spirit,  this  is  posited  as  pure  thought, 
though  it  is  implicitly  a  result,  and  this  has  to  be  posited 
as  it  is  potentially  in  its  character  as  the  movement  of  thought, 
or  to  put  it  otherwise,  pure  thought  has  to  go  into  itself,  and 
it  is  in  this  way  that  it  first  posits  itself  as  finite^." 

226.  This  view  certainly  has  striking  resemblances  to  the 
Christian  doctrine  of  the  Incarnation.  For  it  rejects,  in  the 
first  place,  the  view  that  matter,  while  created  by  God  and 
subordinate  to  God,  is  completely  alien  to  God's  nature,  so  that 
God  can  never  be  incarnate  in  it.  Then  it  also  rejects  the 
two  contrary  heresies  which  arise  out  of  lingering  traces  of 
the  last  mentioned  view.  For,  while  Hegel  admits  that  God 
when  known  as  incarnate  is  not  known  in  his  perfection, 
he  maintains  on  the  other  hand  that  it  is  the  true  and  perfect 
God  who  is  incarnated,  and  thus  rejects  all  suggestion  that  the 
Son  is  inferior  to  the  Father.    On  the  other  hand  he  asserts 


^  The  incarnation  of  God  in  the  Kingdom  of  the  Son  must  be  carefully 
distinguished  from  God's  manifestation  in  Individuals.  This  latter  is  the 
absolute  truth  of  God's  nature,  and  persists  in  the  Kingdom  of  the  Spirit. 
These  Individuals  are  perfect  Individuals,  and  are  not,  in  Hegel's  terminology, 
finite. 

2  op.  cit.  ii.  251  (trans,  iil.  38). 


HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY  217 

that  God  is  really  incarnate  in  matter — in  so  far  as  matter 
can  be  said  to  be  real  at  all — and  so  excludes  the  Docetic 
theory  that  the  body  of  the  incarnate  God  was  only  a  phantasm 
imitating  matter. 

Here,  as  always,  Hegel  reconciled  opposites  by  uniting 
them  in  a  higher  reality  which  included  and  transcended  both. 
He  saw  the  inadequacy  of  trying  to  bridge  over  a  difference 
which,  so  far  as  it  existed  at  all,  was  qualitative,  by  quantitative 
concessions.  To  hold  that  the  incarnate  God  was  not  fully 
God,  or  not  really  incarnate,  was  to  destroy  all  the  significance 
of  the  incarnation,  while  removing  none  of  its  difficulties.  It 
is  as  hopeless  as  the  similar  attempt  to  bridge  over  the 
gulf  between  God  and  Nature  by  the  length  of  a  chain  of 
emanations. 

As  against  such  views  Hegel  asserts  the  incarnation  of 
very  God  in  very  Man.  "  In  the  Church  Christ  has  been 
called  the  God-Man.  This  is  the  extraordinary  combination 
which  directly  contradicts  the  Understanding;  but  the  unity 
of  the  divine  and  human  natures  has  here  been  brought  into 
human  consciousness  and  has  become  a  certainty  for  it,  im- 
plying that  the  otherness,  or,  as  it  is  also  expressed,  the 
finitude,  the  weakness,  the  frailty  of  human  nature  is  not 
incompatible  with  this  unity,  just  as  in  the  eternal  Idea 
otherness  in  no  way  detracts  from  the  unity  which  God  is.... 
It  involves  the  truth  that  the  divine  and  human  natures  are 
not  implicitly  different^." 

227.  But  there  are  other  characteristics  of  Hegel's  doctrine 
of  the  Incarnation  which  are  not  unimportant.  God  is  in- 
carnate not  in  one  man  only,  nor  in  men  only,  but  in  every- 
thing finite.  (Men  are  not  intrinsically  finite,  in  Hegel's  sense 
of  that  word.  But  men  are  finite  in  so  far  as  they  appear  in 
the  Kingdom  of  the  Son  which  is  the  sphere  of  finitude,  and  in 
which  God  only  exists  as  incarnate.)  The  world  of  finitude 
is  nothing  but  God  in  one  moment  of  the  dialectic  process  of 
his  nature,  and  to  say  that  a  thing  is  finite,  and  to  say  that 
it  is  the  incarnation  of  God,  are  identical.    For  there  is  no 

1  op.  cit.  ii.  286  (trans,  iii.  76). 


218  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

reality  but  God,  and  if  the  reality  has  the  imperfect  form  of 
finitude,  this  can  only  mean  that  it  is  God  in  the  imperfect 
form  of  incarnation. 

228.  It  is  true  that  Hegel  is  very  far  from  holding  that 
God  is  equally  incarnate  in  all  finite  objects.  In  proportion 
as  the  finitude  is  overcome,  the  incarnation  is  to  be  considered 
more  perfect.  God  is  more  perfectly  incarnate  in  a  dog  ttan 
in  a  stone,  more  perfectly  again  in  a  wicked  and  foolish  man, 
still  more  perfectly  in  a  wise  and  good  man.  But  if  God  is 
less  incarnate  in  some  finite  things  than  in  others,  this  is  only 
because  those  things  are  less  real.  All  the  reality  in  each 
thing  is  only  in  the  incarnation  of  God.  For  Hegel's  view 
is  not  that  matter  was  first  created  as  something  else  than 
the  incarnation  of  God,  and  that  afterwards  God  became 
incarnate  in  it.  There  is  no  such  priority,  whether  logical 
or  temporal.  For  the  matter  is  nothing  else  than  the  in- 
carnation of  God. 

Defects,  error,  sin,  are  for  Hegel  only  imperfectly  real. 
But  nothing  which  is  evil  is  pure  and  unmixed  abstract  evil, 
and  therefore  all  evil  things  have  some  reality.  And  in  so  far 
as  they  are  real  they  are  incarnations  of  God.  It  is  only  of 
pure  abstract  evil  that  you  could  say  that  it  was  not  a  form  of 
God.  And  pure  abstract  evil  is  non-existent.  (All  sin,  for 
example,  is  for  Hegel  relatively  good^.) 

Here,  again,  we  may  say  that  whatever  truth  Hegel's  view 
of  the  Incarnation  may  have,  it  presents  not  unimportant 
differences  from  the  ordinary  idea.  The  Incarnation  is  identical 
with  the  Creation.  To  say  that  God  is  incarnate  in  the  finite 
is  misleading.  We  should  rather  say  that  the  finite  is  the 
incarnation  of  God. 

229.  Now  for  the  Christian  religion  the  incarnation  of  God 
in  one  particular  human  body  is  of  unique  significance.  This 
leads  us  to  our  fourth  question.  What  does  Hegel  think  as  to  the 
divinity  of  Jesus  ?  It  is  clear  that,  on  Hegel's  theory,  he  must 
have  been  God  incarnate,  since  he  was  a  man.  It  is  equally  clear 
that  he  was  not  the  sole  incarnation  of  God.    Yet  Hegel  does 

^  Cp.  chap.  VI. 


HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY  219 

not  reject  the  special  prominence  of  Jesus  in  historical  Christ- 
ianity as  a  simple  error.    We  must  examine  his  treatment  of  it. 

He  points  out  that  there  are  two  separate  questions  to  be 
considered.  "The  question  as  to  the  truth  of  the  Christian 
religion  directly  divides  itself  into  two  questions:  1.  Is  it 
true  in  general  that  God  does  not  exist  apart  from  the  Son, 
and  that  He  has  sent  Him  into  the  world?  And  2.  Was  this 
man,  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the  carpenter's  son,  the  Son  of  God, 
the  Christ? 

"These  two  questions  are  commonly  mixed  up  together, 
with  the  result  that  if  this  particular  person  was  not  God's 
Son  sent  by  Him,  and  if  this  cannot  be  proved  to  be  true  of 
Him,  then  there  is  no  meaning  at  all  in  His  mission.  If  this 
were  not  true  of  Him,  we  would  either  have  to  look  for  another, 
if  indeed,  one  is  to  come,  if  there  is  a  promise  to  that  effect, 
i.e.,  if  it  is  absolutely  and  essentially  necessary,  necessary  from 
the  point  of  view  of  the  Notion,  of  the  Idea ;  or,  since  the 
correctness  of  the  Idea  is  made  to  depend  on  the  demonstration 
of  the  divine  mission  referred  to,  we  should  have  to  conclude 
that  there  can  really  be  no  longer  any  thought  of  such  a  mission, 
and  that  we  cannot  further  think  about  it. 

"But  it  is  essential  that  we  ask  first  of  all,  Is  such  a 
manifestation  true  in-and-for-itself  ^?  " 

We  have  already  seen  what  is  Hegel's  answer  to  the  first 
question — that  which  relates  to  the  general  truth  of  the  doctrine 
of  Incarnation.  But  the  second  question  divides  into  two. 
(a)  In  what  way,  and  for  what  reasons,  is  it  necessary  to  take 
the  incarnation  of  God  in  one  particular  man  as  possessing  a 
special  significance  ?  (6)  Why  should  the  particular  man  taken 
be  Jesus? 

230.  To  the  first  of  these  new  questions  Hegel's  answer  is 
that  the  selection  of  the  incarnation  in  one  particular  man  has 
reference,  not  to  anything  in  the  nature  of  the  incarnation  of 
God,  but  to  the  inability  of  mankind  in  general  to  grasp  the 
idea  of  that  incarnation  in  its  truth.  "If  Man  is  to  get  a 
consciousness  of  the  unity  of  divine  and  human  nature,  and 

^  Philosophy  of  Religion,  ii.  318  (trans,  iii.  110). 


220  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

of  this  characteristic  of  Man  as  belonging  to  Man  in  general; 
or  if  this  knowledge  is  to  force  its  way  wholly  into  the  con- 
sciousness of  his  finitude  as  the  beam  of  eternal  light  which 
reveals  itself  to  him  in  the  finite,  then  it  must  reach  him  in  his 
character  as  Man  in  general,  i.e.,  apart  from  any  particular 
conditions  of  culture  or  training;  it  must  come  to  him  as 
representing  Man  in  his  immediate  state,  and  it  must  be  uni- 
versal for  immediate  consciousness. 

"The  consciousness  of  the  absolute  Idea,  which  we  have  in 
thought,  must  therefore  not  be  put  forward  as  belonging  to  the 
standpoint  of  philosophical  speculation,  of  speculative  thought, 
but  must,  on  the  contrary,  appear  in  the  form  of  certainty  for 
man  in  general.  This  does  not  mean  that  they  think  this 
consciousness,  or  perceive  and  recognize  the  necessity  of  this 
Idea ;  but  what  we  are  concerned  to  show  is  rather  that  the 
Idea  becomes  for  them  certain,  i.e.,  this  Idea,  namely  the  unity 
of  divine  and  human  nature,  attains  the  stage  of  certainty,  that, 
so  far  as  they  are  concerned,  it  receives  the  form  of  immediate 
sense-perception,  of  outward  existence — in  short,  that  this  Idea 
appears  as  seen  and  experienced  in  the  world.  This  unity  must 
accordingly  show  itself  to  consciousness  in  a  purely  temporal, 
absolutely  ordinary  manifestation  of  reality,  in  one  particular 
man,  in  a  definite  individual  who  is  at  the  same  time  known 
to  be  the  Divine  Idea,  not  merely  a  Being  of  a  higher  kind 
in  general,  but  rather  the  highest,  the  Absolute  Idea,  the  Son 
of  God  1." 

231.  "Man  in  general"  cannot  rise  to  the  philosophical 
idea  that  all  finitude  is  an  incarnation  of  God.  He  requires 
it  in  the  form  of  "immediate  sense-perception."  This  sense- 
perception  must  take  the  form  of  one  single  man,  and  not  of 
several  men.  For  if  more  than  one  were  taken,  they  would  have 
some  common  quality  which  was  not  common  to  all  other  men, 
and  it  would  be  thought  that  it  was  in  virtue  of  that  quality 
that  they  were  incarnations  of  God.  But  if  only  one  individual 
is  taken,  then  the  very  particularity  and  immediacy  of  that 
individual,  if  taken  in  his  own  right,  forces  on  us  the  conviction 

^  op.  cit.  ii.  282  (trans,  iii.  72). 


HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY  221 

that  he  is  not  taken  in  his  own  right,  but  only  as  an  example  of 
a  truth  which  is  absolutely  universal. 

This  seems  to  be  what  Hegel  means  when  he  says,  "This 
individual,... who  represents  for  others  the  manifestation  of  the 
Idea,  is  a  particular  Only  One,  not  some  ones,  for  the  Divine  in 
some  would  become  an  abstraction.  The  idea  of  some  is  a 
miserable  superfluity  of  reflection,  a  superfluity  because  opposed 
to  the  conception  or  notion  of  individual  subjectivity.  In  the 
Notion  once  is  always,  and  the  subject  must  turn  exclusively  to 
one  subjectivity.  In  the  eternal  Idea  there  is  only  one  Son, 
and  thus  there  is  only  One  in  whom  the  absolute  Idea  appears, 
and  this  One  excludes  the  others.  It  is  this  perfect  development 
of  reality  thus  embodied  in  immediate  individuality  or  separate- 
ness  which  is  the  finest  feature  of  the  Christian  religion,  and 
the  absolute  transfiguration  of  the  finite  gets  in  it  a  form  in 
which  it  can  be  outwardly  perceived^." 

232.  We  have  thus  seen  the  reason  why  the  universal 
incarnation  of  God  should  be  presented  in  the  form  of  a 
particular  man.  It  is  not  a  reason  which  would  induce  Hegel 
to  treat  this  particular  presentation  as  anything  of  great  worth 
or  significance.  It  is  due  to  no  characteristic  of  the  incarnation, 
but  only  to  the  failure  of  the  unphilosophic  majority  to  fully 
comprehend  that  incarnation.  And  Hegel  had  very  little 
respect  for  the  philosophic  difficulties  of  the  unphilosophic  man. 
Anyone  who  is  familiar  with  his  language  knows  that  he  is 
using  his  severest  terms  of  condemnation  when  he  says  that 
this  particular  form  of  the  doctrine  comes  from  the  necessity 
of  abandoning  "  the  standpoint  of  speculative  thought  "  in 
favour  of  "the  form  of  outward  existence."  The  philosopher 
may  recognise  the  necessity  that  his  doctrine  should  be  trans- 
formed in  this  way,  but  he  will  regard  the  change  as  a'degrada- 
tion.  Nothing  is  further  from  Hegel  than  the  idea  that  the 
highest  form  of  a  doctrine  is  that  in  which  it  appeals  to  the 
average  man.  If  he  admits  that  some  glimpse  of  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  may  be  vouchsafed  to  babes,  he  balances  the  admission 
by  a  most  emphatic  assertion  of  the  distorted  and  inadequate 
character  of  the  revelation. 

^  op.  cit.  ii.  284  (trans,  iii.  75). 


222  HEGELIANISM  AND    CHRISTIANITY 

233.  We  see  then  why  a  particular  man  is  to  be  taken  as 
the  type  of  the  incarnation.  But  why  Jesus  more  than  any 
other  particular  man?  To  this  question  also  Hegel  supplies 
an  answer. 

According  to  Hegel,  as  we  have  seen,  different  men  are 
incarnations  of  God  differing  in  their  perfection.  One  man 
is  more  of  an  incarnation  of  God  than  another.  Is  this  the 
explanation?  Was  Jesus  the  most  perfect  man — and  therefore 
the  most  perfect  incarnation  of  God — who  has  lived  on  earth, 
or  at  any  rate  who  has  been  known  to  history?  And  is  he  the 
fitting  representative  of  the  incarnation,  for  those  who  need  a 
representation,  because  he  is,  in  truth  and  intrinsically,  the 
most  perfect  exam  fie  of  it? 

This  is  not  Hegel's  view.  It  would  be  improbable,  to  begin 
with,  that  he  should  have  thought  that  Jesus  was  the  most 
perfect  man  of  whom  history  tells  us.  His  conception  of  human 
nature  was  not  one  which  would  lead  him  to  accept  as  his  ideal 
man  one  who  was  neither  a  metaphysician  nor  a  citizen. 

But  whatever  may  have  been  Hegel's  opinion  on  this  point, 
it  is  quite  certain  that  it  was  not  in  the  perfection  of  the 
character  of  Jesus  that  he  found  the  reason  which  made  it 
appropriate  to  take  Jesus  as  the  type  of  the  incarnation.  For 
it  is  not  the  life,  but  the  teaching  on  which  he  lays  stress.  Not 
in  the  perfection  of  his  character,  but  in  the  importance  of  the 
teaching  expressed  in  his  words,  or  implied  in  his  life,  consists 
the  unique  importance  of  Jesus  to  the  history  of  religious 
thought.  Hegel  treats  of  the  Passion  at  some  length.  But 
he  says  nothing  of  courage,  of  gentleness,  of  dignity — qualities 
which  he  would  have  been  the  last  to  ignore  if  they  had  been 
relevant.  He  is  entirely  occupied  with  the  metaphysical 
significance  of  the  "death  of  God^." 

234.  But  it  was  not  in  the  truth  and  purity  of  his  moral 
precepts  that,  according  to  Hegel,  the  importance  of  Jesus' 
teaching  was  to  be  found.  His  precepts,  like  his  life,  would 
have  appeared  one-sided  to  Hegel — and  one-sided  in  the 
direction  with  which  Hegel  had  least  sympathy.    On  this  point 

1  op.  cit.  ii.  295—307  (trans,  iii.  86—99). 


HEGELIANISM    AND    CHRISTIANITY  223 

we  are  not  left  to  conjecture.  It  has  been  explained  that  the 
unity  of  God  and  man  "must  appear  for  others  in  the  form  of 
an  individual  man  marked  off  from  or  excluding  the  rest  of  men, 
not  all  individual  men,  but  One  from  whom  they  are  shut  off, 
though  he  no  longer  appears  as  representing  the  potentiality 
or  true  essence  which  is  above,  but  as  individuality  in  the 
region  of  certainty." 

He  then  continues,  "It  is  with  this  certainty  and  sensuous 
view  that  we  are  concerned,  and  not  merely  with  a  divine  teacher, 
nor  indeed  simply  with  morality,  nor  even  in  any  way  simply 
with  a  teacher  of  this  Idea  either.  It  is  not  with  ordinary 
thought  or  with  conviction  that  we  have  got  to  do,  but  with 
this  immediate  presence  and  certainty  of  the  Divine ;  for  the 
immediate  certainty  of  what  is  present  represents  the  infinite 
form  and  mode  which  the  '  Is '  takes  for  the  natural  conscious- 
ness. This  Is  destroys  all  trace  of  mediation ;  it  is  the  final 
point,  the  last  touch  of  light  which  is  laid  on.  This  Is  is 
wanting  in  mediation  of  any  kind  such  as  is  given  through 
feeling,  pictorial  ideas,  reasons ;  and  it  is  only  in  philosophical 
knowledge,  by  means  of  the  Notion  only  in  the  element  of 
universality,  that  it  returns  again  ^." 

235.  The  special  significance  of  Jesus,  then,  is  that  he 
bears  witness  to  a  metaphysical  truth — the  unity  of  God  and 
man. 

But  he  bears  witness  to  this  not  as  a  metaphysical  truth — 
not  as  a  proposition  mediated  and  connected  with  others  in  a 
reasoned  system — but  as  a  "certainty  and  sensuous  view,"  as 
the  "immediate  presence  and  certainty  of  the  Divine."  Nor  is 
he,  as  Hegel  remarks,  in  the  strictest  sense  a  teacher  of  this 
Idea.  It  is  rather  that  this  immediate  certainty  of  the  unity  of 
God  and  Man  runs  through  all  his  teaching,  than  that  it  is  often 
explicitly  enunciated. 

The  speeches  of  Jesus,  which  are  presented  by  Hegel  for 
our  admiration,  are  those  which  imply  this  immediate  certainty 
of  unity  with  God.  For  example,  "Into  this  Kingdom"  of  God 
"Man  has  to  transport  himself,  and  he  does  this  by  directly 

^  op.  cit.  ii.  283  (trans,  iii.  73). 


224  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

devoting  himself  to  the  truth  it  embodies.  This  is  expressed 
with  the  most  absolute  and  startling  frankness,  as,  for  instance, 
at  the  beginning  of  the  so-called  Sermon  on  the  Mount: 
'Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God.'  Words 
like  these  are  amongst  the  grandest  that  have  ever  been  uttered. 
They  represent  a  final  central  point  in  which  all  superstition 
and  all  want  of  freedom  on  Man's  part  are  done  away  with^" 

Again,  he  says,  "The  fact  that  this  possession  of  this  life 
of  the  spirit  in  truth  is  attained  without  intermediate  helps, 
is  expressed  in  the  prophetic  manner,  namely  that  it  is  God 
who  thus  speaks.  Here  it  is  with  absolute,  divine  truth,  truth 
in-and-for-itself,  that  we  are  concerned;  this  utterance  and 
willing  of  the  truth  in-and-for-itself,  and  the  carrying  out  of 
what  is  thus  expressed,  is  described  as  an  act  of  God,  it  is  the 
consciousness  of  the  real  unity  of  the  divine  will,  of  its  harmony 
with  the  truth.  It  is  as  conscious  of  this  elevation  of  His  spirit, 
and  in  the  assurance  of  His  identity  with  God,  that  Christ  says 
'  Woman,  thy  sins  are  forgiven  thee.'  Here  there  speaks  in 
Him  that  overwhelming  majesty  which  can  undo  everything, 
and  actually  declares  that  this  has  been  done. 

"  So  far  as  the  form  of  this  utterance  is  concerned,  what  has 
mainly  to  be  emphasised  is  that  He  who  thus  speaks  is  at  the 
same  time  essentially  Man,  it  is  the  Son  of  Man  who  thus 
speaks,  in  whom  this  utterance  of  the  truth,  this  carrying  into 
practice  of  what  is  absolute  and  essential,  this  activity  on  God's 
part,  is  essentially  seen  to  exist  as  in  one  who  is  a  man  and  not 
something  superhuman,  not  something  which  appears  in  the 
form  of  an  outward  revelation — in  short,  the  main  stress  is  to 
be  laid  on  the  fact  that  this  divine  presence  is  essentially 
identical  with  what  is  human  2." 

And  again,  "The  Kingdom  of  God,  and  the  idea  of  purity 
of  heart,  contain  an  infinitely  greater  depth  of  truth  than  the 
inwardness  of  Socrates^." 

236.  The  appropriateness  of  the  selection  of  Jesus  as  the 
typical  incarnation  of  God  is  thus  due  to  the  way  in  which,  his 

1  op.  cit.  ii.  290  (trans,  iii.  81). 

2  op.  cit.  ii.  293  (trans,  iii.  84). 
^  op.  cit.  ii.  295  (trans,  iii.  86). 


HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY  225 

teaching  implied  and  rested  on  the  unity  of  the  human  and 
the  divine.  This,  Hegel  says,  is  a  great  truth.  But  is  it  the 
only  fundamental  truth  of  religion?  According  to  Hegel  it  is 
not,  and  according  to  his  exposition,  the  principle  as  exemplified 
by  Jesus  had  two  cardinal  errors.  Each  of  these  may  be  defined 
as  an  excess  of  immediacy.  It  was  a  merely  immediate  -assertion 
of  a  merely  immediate  unity. 

That  the  assertion  is  merely  immediate,  is  evident  from 
what  has  been  already  said.  There  is  no  metaphysical  system ; 
there  is  no  dialectic  process  leading  from  undeniable  premises 
to  a  conclusion  so  paradoxical  to  the  ordinary  consciousness. 
It  is  simply  an  assertion,  which  needed  no  proof  to  those  who 
felt  instinctively  convinced  of  its  truth,  but  which  had  no  proof 
to  offer  to  those  who  asked  for  one. 

Such  a  method  of  statement  is,  for  Hegel,  altogether 
defective.  No  philosophical  error  is  more  deadly,  he  teaches, 
than  to  trust  to  our  instinctive  belief  in  any  truth^ — except, 
of  course,  one  whose  denial  is  self-contradictory.  On  this, 
indeed,  he  lays  a  rather  exaggerated  emphasis,  impelled  by 
his  opposition  to  the  advocates  of  "immediate  intuition"  who 
were  his  contemporaries  in  German  philosophy.  Again  and 
again,  through  all  his  writings,  recur  the  assertions  that  an 
instinctive  conviction  is  just  as  likely  to  be  false  as  true ;  that 
between  the  false  and  true  only  reason  can  discriminate ;  that 
the  "humility"  which  trusts  the  heart  instead  of  the  head  is 
always  absurd  and  often  hypocritical ;  and  that  the  form  and 
content  of  truth  are  so  united  that  no  truth  can  be  held  in  a 
non-rational  form  without  being  more  or  less  distorted  into 
falsehood. 

237.  Moreover,  the  unity  thus  asserted  was  a  purely 
immediate  unity.  "There  is  no  mention  of  any  mediation  in 
connection  with  this  elevating  of  the  spirit  whereby  it  may 
become  an  accomplished  fact  in  Man ;  but,  on  the  contrary, 
the  mere  statement  of  what  is  required  implies  this  immediate 
Being,  this  immediate  self-transference  into  Truth,  into  the 
Kingdom  of  God^." 

Now  such  an  immediate  unity  is,  for  Hegel,  only  one  side 

^  Philosophy  of  Religion,  ii.  291  (trans,  iii.  81). 


226  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

of  the  truth.  It  is  true  that  man  is  eternally  one  with  God,  or 
he  could  never  become  one  with  God.  But  it  is  equally  true 
that  man  is  not  one  with  God,  unless  he  becomes  so  by  a  process 
of  mediation,  and  that  a  man  who  rests  in  his  immediacy  would, 
so  far  as  he  did  rest  in  it,  not  be  divine,  but  simply  non-existent. 
(We  shall  see  how  vital  this  side  of  the  truth  was  for  Hegel 
when  we  come  to  consider  his  treatment  of  Original  Sin.)  The 
reconciliation  of  these  two  aspects  of  the  truth  lies  in  the 
recognition  that  the  unity  of  man  and  God  is  a  unity  which 
is  immediate  by  including  and  transcending  mediation.  And 
this  leaves  the  mere  immediacy  which  ignores  mediation  as 
only  one  side  of  the  truth. 

238.  Why  then — the  question  recurs — is  Jesus  taken  as  the 
typical  incarnation  of  God  ?  True,  he  bore  Witness  to  the  unity 
of  man  and  God,  but  in  such  a  way  that  both  the  form  and 
the  content  of  his  testimony  were  inadequate,  and,  therefore, 
partially  false. 

As  to  the  inadequacy  of  the  form,  the  answer  has  been  given 
already.  If  the  form  of  his  testimony  had  been  more  adequate, 
Jesus  would  have  been  a  less  fitting  type  of  the  incarnation. 
For  a  type,  as  we  have  seen,  is  only  required  for  "men  in 
general,"  who  cannot  attain  to  the  "standpoint  of  speculative 
thought."  For  speculative  thought  no  type  is  required,  since 
it  is  able  to  see  the  incarnation  in  its  universal  truth  ^.  But 
without  rising  to  the  standpoint  of  speculative  thought  it  is 
impossible  to  see  the  unity  of  God  and  man  as  a  necessary  and 
demonstrated  certainty.  "Men  in  general,"  therefore,  can  only 
accept  it  as  a  matter  of  simple  faith,  or,  at  most,  as  demonstrated 
by  external  proofs,  such  as  tradition  or  miracles,  which  do  not 
destroy  the  intrinsic  immediacy  of  the  result.  In  proportion 
as  men  rise  above  the  immediate  reception  of  the  doctrine,  they 
rise  above  the  necessity  of  a  typical  representative  of  it.  And 
therefore  no  teacher  for  whom  the  doctrine  is  not  immediate 
can  be  taken  as  a  fitting  type. 

239.  And  we  can  see  also  that  only  a  teacher  whose 
immediate  assertion  was  an  assertion  of  a  merely  immediate 
unity  could  be  taken  as  a  type.    For,  as  Hegel  points  out,  a 

^  Cp.  above,  Section  230. 


HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY  227 

unity  which  is  immediately  asserted  can  only  be  an  immediate 
unity.  "The  fact  that  this  possession  of  the  life  of  the  spirit 
in  truth  is  attained  without  intermediate  helps,  is  expressed  in 
the  prophetic  manner,  namely,  that  it  is  God  who  thus  speaks^." 
Form  and  content,  in  other  words,  are  not  mutually  indili'erent. 
A  merely  immediate  assertion  cannot  express  the  true  state  of 
the  case — that  man's  unity  with  God  is  both  mediate  and 
immediate.  If  this  truth  is  put  as  an  immediate  assertion  it 
appears  a  mere  contradiction.  It  can  only  be  grasped  by 
speculative  thought. 

And  thus  a  teacher  speaking  to  men  in  general  cannot 
embody  in  his-  teaching  the  whole  truth  as  to  the  relation 
between  man  and  God.  He  must  teach  the  one  side  or  the 
other — the  immediate  unity  of  man  and  God,  or  their  im- 
mediate diversity.  It  is  not  difficult  to  see  why  it  should 
be  a  teacher  of  the  first  half-truth,  rather  than  of  the  second, 
who  should  be  selected  as  the  typical  incarnation  of  God. 

In  the  first  place,  it  was  the  doctrine  of  man's  unity  with 
God  which  was  demanded  by  the  needs  of  the  time.  "  Jesus 
appeared  at  a  time  when  the  Jewish  nation,  owing  to  the 
dangers  to  which  its  worship  had  been  exposed,  and  was  still 
exposed,  was  more  obstinately  absorbed  in  its  observance  than 
ever,  and  was  at  the  same  time  compelled  to  despair  of  seeing 
its  hopes  actually  realised,  since  it  had  come  in  contact  with 
a  universal  humanity,  the  existence  of  which  it  could  no  longer 
deny,  and  which  nevertheless  was  completely  devoid  of  any 
spiritual  element — He  appeared,  in  short,  when  the  common 
people  were  in  perplexity  and  helpless^." 

Elsewhere  he  tells  us  that  the  rest  of  the  world  was  also, 
at  this  time,  in  a  state  of  alienation  from  self,  and  of  spiritual 
misery^.  It  was  useless  to  preach  to  such  a  world  that  it  was 
separated  from  God.  Of  that  fact  it  was  conscious,  and  hence 
came  its  misery.  What  was  wanted  was  to  give  it  hope  by 
insisting  on  the  other  side  of  the  truth — that  it  was  just  as 
vitally  united  with  God. 

^  Philosophy  of  Religion,  ii.  293  (trans,  iii.  84). 
2  op.  cit.  ii.  291  (trans,  iii.  82). 
*  Cp.  Phenomenology,  iv.  b.  158 

15—2 


228  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

There  is  another  reason,  which  is  sufficiently  obvious.  A 
man  who  taught  the  immediate  separation  of  man  from  God 
would  be  teaching  a  doctrine  as  true  as  the  immediate  unity 
of  man  with  God,  but  he  would  be  teaching  a  doctrine  which 
could  never  suggest  that  he  should  be  taken  as  a  typical 
incarnation  of  God.  On  the  other  hand,  we  can  see  how 
easy  it  is  to  consider  the  teacher  of  the  unity  of  man  and 
God  as  a  typical  example  of  that  unity,  or  even  as  the  only 
example. 

240.  We  are  now  able  to  reconcile  two  statements  of 
Hegel's  which  might  at  first  sight  appear  contradictory.  On 
the  one  hand,  he  speaks  of  the  position  of  Jesus  as  typifying 
the  incarnation  of  God,  as  if  that  position  had  been  determined 
by  the  choice  of  the  Church.  (By  the  Church  here  he  does 
not  mean  the  Spiritual  Community  of  the  future,  or  of  the 
eternal  present,  which  is  found  in  the  Kingdom  of  the  Spirit, 
but  the  Church  of  the  past,  in  the  ages  in  which  Christian 
dogma  was  formulated,  which  is  still  part  of  the  Kingdom  of 
the  Son.  In  the  Kingdom  of  the  Spirit  the  unity  of  God  and 
man  would  be  seen  in  its  full  truth,  and  no  longer  in  the 
inadequate  form  of  sensuous  certainty.) 

On  the  other  hand  he  speaks  of  the  typification  of  the 
incarnation  in  Jesus  as  necessary.  "It  was  to  Christ  only 
that  the  Idea,  when  it  was  ripe  and  the  time  was  fulfilled, 
could  attach  itself,  and  in  Him  only  could  it  see  itself 
realised  ^" 

There  is  nothing  really  contradictory  in  this.  It  is,  as  we 
have  seen,  the  case  that  Jesus  is  only  the  special  incarnation 
of  God  for  the  Church — for  men  in  general  who  cannot  rise 
to  speculative  thought.  And,  as  we  have  also  seen,  the  quality 
which  renders  it  particularly  fitting  that  Jesus  should  be  taken 
as  typical,  is  not  any  objective  perfection  in  his  incarnation 
of  God,  but  is  just  the  special  manner  in  which  his  teaching 
meets  the  special  needs,  which  are  also  the  defects,  of  the 
Church  militant  on  earth.  Thus  there  is  no  reason  for  specu- 
lative thought  to  treat  the  incarnation  of  God  in  Jesus  as 
anything  of  peculiar  significance,   except  the   fact  that  the 

^  Philosophy  of  Religion,  ii.  320  (trans,  iii.  113). 


HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY  229 

Church  regards  it  as  of  peculiar  significance.  And  thus  it 
may  be  said  that  it  is  nothing  but  the  choice  of  the 
Church  which  has  attributed  a  specially  divine  character  to 
Jesus. 

But  we  must  not  regard  that  choice  as  capricious  or 
accidental.  No  other  man  would  have  been  so  appropriate 
to  choose — indeed,  the  choice  could  scarcely  have  been  at  all 
effective  if  it  had  fallen  on  anyone  else.  That  a  man  should 
be  accepted  by  men  in  general  as  God  incarnate,  it  Was 
necessary  that  his  teaching  should  be  penetrated  by  the  idea 
of  the  unity  of  God  and  man,  and  that  his  teaching  should 
have  become  prominent  in  the  world  in  that  age  when  the 
world  felt,  more  intensely  than  it  has  ever  felt  at  any  other 
time,  that  it  was  alienated  from  its  true  reality,  and  when  it 
required,  more  urgently  than  it  has  ever  required  at  any  other 
time,  the  assurance  of  its  unity  with  the  divine.  No  other 
man  in  history  would  answer  to  this  description,  and  thus 
Hegel  was  justified  in  saying  that  in  Jesus  only  could  the 
Idea  see  itself  realised. 

241.  Whether  Hegel  is  altogether  right  in  his  analysis 
of  the  principles  implicit  in  the  teaching  of  Jesus  we  need 
not  now  enquire.  Our  object  at  present  is  not  to  determine 
the  truth  about  Christianity  but  about  Hegel's  views  on 
Christianity.  And,  to  sum  up  his  views  as  to  the  relation 
of  Jesus  to  the  incarnation  of  God,  he  holds  (1)  that  Jesus 
was  not  the  sole  incarnation  of  God,  nor  an  incarnation  in  a 
different  sense  to  that  in  which  everything  is  such  an  incarna- 
tion, (2)  that  his  significance  is  that  in  him  the  Church  sym- 
bolises, and  appropriately  symbolises,  that  universal  incarnation 
which  the  Church  has  not  sufficient  speculative  insight  to 
grasp  without  a  symbol,  (3)  that  his  appropriateness  for  this 
purpose  does  not  lie  in  his  being  a  more  perfect  incarnation 
of  God,  but  in  his  being  specially  adapted  to  represent  the 
divine  incarnation  to  people  who  were  unable  to  grasp  its  full 
meaning.  In  proportion  as  the  incarnation  is  adequately 
understood,  all  exceptional  character  disappears  from  the 
incarnation  in  Jesus.  Here  again  we  must  say  that  this 
doctrine  may  be  true,  and  it  may  possibly  deserve  the  name 


230  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

of  Christian.  But  it  does  not  much  resemble  the  more  ordinary 
forms  of  Christianity. 

242.  The  fifth  point  which  we  had  to  consider  was  Hegel's 
doctrine  of  Original  Sin,  and  of  Grace.  He  asserts  that  there 
is  a  profound  truth  in  the  Christian  doctrine  of  Original  Sin. 
This  truth  is  to  be  found  in  the  following  proposition:  "Man 
is  by  nature  evil;  his  potential  {an  sich)  Being,  his  natural 
Being  is  evil."    But  how  does  he  interpret  this? 

"In  man,"  he  says,  we  "meet  with  characteristics  which  are 
mutually  opposed :  Man  is  hy  nature  good,  he  is  not  divided 
against  himself,  but,  on  the  contrary,  his  essence,  his  Notion, 
consists  in  this,  that  he  is  by  nature  good,  that  he  represents 
what  is  harmony  with  itself,  inner  peace;  and — Man  is  hy 
nature  evil.  ... 

"To  say  that  man  is  by  nature  good  amounts  substantially 
to  saying  that  he  is  potentially  Spirit,  rationality,  that  he  has 
been  created  in  the  image  of  God ;  God  is  the  Good,  and  Man 
as  Spirit  is  the  reflection  of  God,  he  is  the  Good  potentially. 
It  is  just  on  this  very  proposition  and  on  it  alone  that  the 
possibility  of  the  reconciliation  rests ;  the  difficulty,  the  am- 
biguity is,  however,  in  the  potentiality. 

"  Man  is  potentially  good — but  when  that  is  said  everything 
is  not  said;  it  is  just  in  this  potentiality  that  the  element  of 
one-sidedness  lies.  Man  is  good  potentially,  i.e.,  he  is  good 
only  in  an  inward  way,  good  so  far  as  his  notion  or  conception 
is  concerned,  and  for  this  very  reason  not  good  so  far  as  his 
actual  nature  is  concerned. 

"Man,  inasmuch  as  he  is  Spirit,  must  actually  be,  be  for 
himself,  what  he  truly  is ;  physical  Nature  remains  in  the 
condition  of  potentiality,  it  is  potentially  the  Notion,  but  the 
Notion  does  not  in  it  attain  to  independent  Being,  to  Being- 
for-self.  It  is  just  in  the  very  fact  that  Man  is  only  potentially 
good  that  the  defect  of  his  nature  lies.  ... 

"What  is  good  by  nature  is  good  in  an  immediate  way,  and 
it  is  just  the  very  nature  of  Spirit  not  to  be  something  natural 
and  immediate ;  rather,  it  is  involved  in  the  very  idea  of  Man 
as  Spirit  that  he  should  pass  out  of  this  natural  state  into  a 
state  in  which  there  is  a  separation  between  his  notion  or 


HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY  231 

conception  and  his  immediate  existence.  In  the  case  of 
physical  nature  this  separation  of  an  individual  thing  from  its 
law,  from  its  substantial  essence,  does  not  occur,  just  because 
it  is  not  free. 

"What  is  meant  by  Man  is,  a  being  who  sets  himself  in 
opposition  to  his  immediate  nature,  to  his  state  of  being  in 
himself,  and  reaches  a  state  of  separation. 

"The  other  assertion  made  regarding  Man  springs  directly 
from  the  statement  that  Man  must  not  remain  what  he  is 
immediately ;  he  must  pass  beyond  the  state  of  immediacy ; 
that  is  the  notion  or  conception  of  Spirit.  It  is  this  passing 
beyond  his  natural  state,  his  potential  Being,  which  first  of  all 
forms  the  basis  of  the  division  or  disunion,  and  in  connection 
with  which  the  disunion  directly  arises. 

"  This  disunion  is  a  passing  out  of  this  natural  condition  or 
immediacy ;  but  we  must  not  take  this  to  mean  that  it  is  the 
act  of  passing  out  of  this  condition  which  first  constitutes  evil, 
for,  on  the  contrary,  this  passing  out  of  immediacy  is  already 
involved  in  the  state  of  nature.  Potentiality  and  the  natural 
state  constitute  the  Immediate ;  but  because  it  is  Spirit  it  is  in 
its  immediacy  the  passing  out  of  its  immediacy,  the  revolt  or 
falling  away  from  its  immediacy,  from  its  potential  Being. 

"  This  involves  the  second  proposition :  Man  is  by  nature 
evil ;  his  potential  Being,  his  natural  Being  is  evil.  It  is  just 
in  this  his  condition  as  one  of  natural  Being  that  his  defect  is 
found ;  because  he  is  Spirit  he  is  separated  from  this  natural 
Being,  and  is  disunion.  One-sidedness  is  directly  involved  in 
this  natural  condition.  When  Man  is  only  as  he  is  according 
to  Nature,  he  is  evil. 

"  The  natural  Man  is  Man  as  potentially  good,  good  according 
to  his  conception  or  notion ;  but  in  the  concrete  sense  that  man 
is  natural  who  follows  his  passions  and  impulses,  and  remains 
within  the  circle  of  his  desires,  and  whose  natural  immediacy  is 
his  law. 

"He  is  natural,  but  in  this  his  natural  state  he  is  at  the 
same  time  a  being  possessed  of  will,  and  since  the  content  of  his 
will  is  merely  impulse  and  inclination,  he  is  evil.  So  far  as  form 
is  concerned,  the  fact  that  he  is  evil  implies  that  he  is  no  longer 


232  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

an  animal,  but  the  content,  the  ends  towards  which  his  acts  of 
will  are  directed,  are  still  natural.  This  is  the  standpoint  we 
are  concerned  with  here,  the  higher  standpoint  according  to 
which  Man  is  by  nature  evil,  and  is  evil  just  because  he  is 
something  natural. 

"The  primary  condition  of  Man,  which  is  superficially 
represented  as  a  state  of  innocence,  is  the  state  of  nature,  the 
animal  state.  Man  must  (soil)  be  culpable;  in  so  far  as  he  is 
good,  he  must  not  be  good  as  any  natural  thing  is  good,  but  his 
guilt,  his  will,  must  come  into  play,  it  must  be  possible  to 
impute  moral  acts  to  him.  Guilt  really  means  the  possibility 
of  imputation. 

"  The  good  man  is  good  along  with  and  by  means  of  his  will, 
and  to  that  extent  because  of  his  guilt.  Innocence  implies  the 
absence  of  will,  the  absence  of  evil,  and  consequently  the  absence 
of  goodness.  Natural  things  and  the  animals  are  all  good,  but 
this  is  a  kind  of  goodness  which  cannot  be  attributed  to  Man ; 
in  so  far  as  he  is  good,  it  must  be  by  the  action  and  consent  of 
his  Willi." 

243.  Hegel's  doctrine  of  Original  Sin,  then,  is  that  man  in 
his  temporal  existence  on  earth  has  in  his  nature  a  contingent 
and  particular  element,  as  well  as  a  rational  and  universal 
element,  and  that,  while  his  nature  is  good  in  respect  of  the 
second,  it  is  bad  in  respect  of  the  first. 

From  this  follow  three  corollaries.  The  first  is  that  it  is 
unsafe  to  trust  to  the  fact  that  all  or  some  men  have  an 
instinctive  conviction  that  a  proposition  is  true  or  a  maxim 
binding.  Such  a  conviction  shows  that  the  proposition  or  the 
maxim  is  agreeable  to  some  part  of  human  nature,  but  it 
proves  nothing  as  to  its  truth  or  obligation.  For  it  may  be  the 
contingent  and  particular  side  of  human  nature  in  which  the 
conviction  arises,  and  a  conviction  which  springs  from  this  can 
only  be  right  by  accident.  Indeed,  since  form  and  content 
are  not  completely  separable,  it  cannot  be  more  than  ap- 
proximately right. 

Again,  since  the  rational  and  universal  part  of  our  nature  is, 
to  a  large  extent,  merely  latent  until  developed  by  thought, 

1  op.  cit.  ii.  258—260  (trans,  iii.  45 — 48). 


HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY  233 

education,  and  experience,  it  follows  that  the  old  and  educated 
are  more  likely,  caeteris  'paribus,  to  be  in  the  right  than  the 
young  and  ignorant.  It  is,  therefore,  illegitimate  to  appeal  to 
the  unsophisticated  natural  instincts  of  the  plain  man.  What- 
ever presents  itself  simply  as  a  natural  instinct  of  a  plain  man 
presents  itself  in  a  form  of  contingency  and  particularity.  It 
can  only  be  right  by  chance,  and  it  can  never  be  quite  right. 
From  reason  erroneous  and  sophisticated  there  is  no  appeal  but 
to  reason's  own  power  of  correcting  its  own  errors. 

And,  again,  each  generation  does  not  start  fresh  in  the  work 
of  evolving  its  rational  and  universal  nature.  The  world  shows 
a  steady,  though  not  an  unbroken,  advance  in  this  respect.  It 
is  therefore  illegitimate  to  appeal  to  the  opinions  of  the  past, 
as  if  it  were  a  golden  age  when  the  true  and  the  good  were 
more  easily  recognized.  We  are  doubtless  wrong  on  many 
points,  but  we  are  more  likely  to  be  right  than  simpler  and 
less  reflective  ages. 

244.  Now  all  this  may  be  true.  It  may  be  quite  compatible 
with  Christianity.  It  is  possible  that  no  other  view  on  this 
subject  is  compatible  with  Christianity.  But  it  is  by  no  means 
a  view  which  is  exclusively  Christian,  or  which  originated  with 
Christianity,  or  which  involves  Christianity,  and  the  fact  that 
Hegel  accepts  it  does  nothing  towards  rendering  his  position  a 
Christian  one.  Human  nature  often  leads  us  astray.  Many 
men  have  had  instinctive  convictions  of  the  truth  of  what  was 
really  false,  and  of  the  goodness  of  what  was  really  bad.  In 
spite  of  the  many  errors  of  the  wise  and  prudent,  it  is  safer  to 
adopt  their  opinions  than  those  of  babes.  The  world  had  not 
to  wait  for  Christianity  to  discover  these  truths.  It  would  not 
cease  to  believe  them  if  Christianity  was  destroyed.  Indeed, 
when  they  have  been  denied  at  all,  it  has  generally  been  in  the 
supposed  defence  of  Christianity.  Hegel  may  be  right  when 
he  points  out  that  such  a  defence  is  suicidal.  But  he  can 
scarcely  be  brought  nearer  to  Christianity  by  holding  a  belief 
which  hardly  anyone  denies  except  one  school  of  Christians. 

The  extreme  emphasis  which  Hegel  lays  on  this  doctrine  is 
polemic  in  its  nature.  Among  his  contemporaries  there  was  a 
party  of  Intuitionists,  who  based  their  philosophy  on  various 


234  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

propositions  which  were  asserted  to  be  fundamental  convictions 
of  mankind.  And  he  tells  us  that  there  was  also  a  Pietist 
school  who  held  that  we  could  not  know  God,  but  must  be 
content  to  adore  him  in  ignorance.  Both  these  views  in 
different  ways  involved  a  trust  in  our  own  natures,  without 
criticism  or  discrimination,  simply  because  they  are  our  own 
natures.  And  it  was  his  opposition  to  these  views  which  urged 
Hegel  into  an  iteration  of  his  doctrine  of  Original  Sin,  which 
at  first  sight  seems  somewhat  inexplicable. 

245.  There  is  another  feature  of  Hegel's  treatment  of 
Original  Sin  which  we  must  mention.  He  regards  conscious 
and  deliberate  sin  as  evil.  But  he  regards  it  as  less  evil  than 
that  mere  Innocence  (Unschuldigkeit)  which  has  its  root,  not 
in  the  choice  of  virtue,  but  in  ignorance  of  vice.  As  compared 
with  the  deliberate  choice  of  the  good,  the  deliberate  choice 
of  the  bad  is  contingent  and  particular — and  therefore  evil. 
But  to  make  a  deliberate  choice  even  of  the  bad  implies  some 
activity  of  the  reason  and  the  will.  And  so  it  has  a  universality 
in  its  form,  which  Innocence  has  not.  It  is  true  that  Innocence 
has  a  universality  in  its  content,  which  Sin  has  not.  So  far 
they  might  seem  to  be  on  a  level.  But  Sin  is  so  far  superior 
that  it  has  advanced  one  step  nearer  to  the  goal  of  Virtue. 
The  man  who  has  sinned  may  not  have  mounted  higher  in 
doing  so.  But  he  has  at  any  rate  started  on  the  only  road 
which  can  eventually  lead  him  upwards. 

And  the  advance  from  Innocence  to  Virtue  can  only  be 
through  Sin.  Sin  is  a  necessary  means  to  Virtue.  "  Man  must 
{soil)  be  culpable ;  in  so  far  as  he  is  good,  he  must  not  be  good 
as  any  natural  thing  is  good,  but  his  guilt,  his  will,  must  come 
into  play,  it  must  be  possible  to  impute  moral  acts  to  him^." 

246.  This  relative  superiority  of  Sin  is  evident  in  the 
passage  which  I  quoted  above  2.  It  is  also  evident  in  the  whole 
of  Hegel's  treatment  of  the  story  of  the  Fall.  Of  this  I 'will 
quote  one  extract.  "  It  is  knowledge  which  first  brings  out  the 
contrast  or  antithesis  in  which  evil  is  found.  The  animal,  the 
stone,  the  plant  is  not  evil ;  evil  is  first  present  within  the  sphere 

^  op.  cit.  ii.  260  (trans,  iii.  48);  cp.  above,  chap.  vi. 
2  op.  cit.  ii.  258—260  (trans,  iii.  45 — 48). 


HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY  235 

of  knowledge ;  it  is  the  consciousness  of  independent  Being,  or 
Being-for-self  relatively  to  an  Other,  but  also  relatively  to  an 
Object  which  is  inherently  universal  in  the  sense  that  it  is  the 
Notion  or  rational  will.  It  is  only  by  means  of  this  separation 
that  I  exist  independently,  for  myself,  and  it  is  in  this  that  evil 
lies.  To  be  evil  means  in  an  abstract  sense  to  isolate  myself; 
the  isolation  which  separates  me  from  the  Universal  represents 
the  element  of  rationality,  the  laws,  the  essential  characteristics 
of  Spirit.  But  it  is  along  with  this  separation  that  Being-for- 
self  originates,  and  it  is  only  when  it  appears  that  we  have  the 
Spiritual  as  something  universal,  as  Law,  what  ought  to  be^." 

Later  in  the  book  he  says,  "  What  is  devoid  of  Spirit  appears 
at  first  to  have  no  sin  in  it,  but  to  be  innocent,  but  this  is  just 
the  innocence  which  is  by  its  very  nature  judged  and  con- 
demned^." 

After  all  this  it  is  only  to  be  expected  that  Hegel,  while  he 
considers  that  the  story  of  the  Fall  embodies  a  great  truth, 
considers  also  that  the  Fall  was  in  reality  a  rise.  In  this 
respect  the  Devil  only  told  the  truth.  "  The  serpent  says  that 
Adam  will  become  like  God,  and  God  confirms  the  truth  of  this, 
and  adds  His  testimony  that  it  is  this  knowledge  which  con- 
stitutes likeness  to  God.  This  is  the  profound  idea  lodged  in 
the  narrative^."  And  again,  "The  serpent  further  says  that 
Man  by  the  act  of  eating  would  become  equal  to  God,  and  by 
speaking  thus  he  made  an  appeal  to  Man's  pride.  God  says  to 
Himself,  Adam  is  become  as  one  of  us.  The  serpent  had  thus 
not  lied,  for  God  confirms  what  it  said^." 

If  this  is  to  be  counted  as  Christianity,  then  it  must  be 
compatible  with  Christianity  to  hold  that  the  lowest  state  in 
which  man  ever  existed  was  in  Paradise  before  the  entrance 
of  the  serpent,  and  that  Adam  and  Eve,  in  yielding  to  the 
temptations  of  the  Devil,  were  in  reality  taking  the  first  step 
towards  realising  the  truest  and  highest  nature  of  Spirit. 

^  op.  cit.  ii.  264  (trans,  iii.  52). 

2  op.  cit.  ii.  316  (trans,  iii.  108). 

3  op.  cit.  ii.  75  (trans,  ii.  202). 

*  op.  cit.  ii.  265  (trans,  iii.  54).     Cp.  also  Philosophy  of  History,  p.  334  (trans, 
also  p.  334). 


236  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

247.  Hegel's  doctrine  of  Grace  is  the  correlative  of  his 
doctrine  of  Original  Sin.  In  the  latter  we  were  reminded 
that  man's  temporal  nature  is  infected  with  contingency  and 
particularity.  In  the  doctrine  of  Grace  the  emphasis  is  laid  on 
the  rationality  and  universality  of  man's  eternal  nature. 

"The  very  fact  that  the  opposition"  inherent  in  the  nature 
of  Spirit  "  is  implicitly  done  away  with  constitutes  the  condition, 
the  presupposition,  the  possibility  of  the  subject's  ability  to  do 
away  with  it  actually.  In  this  respect  it  may  be  said  that  the 
subject  does  not  attain  reconciliation  on  its  own  account,  that 
is,  as  a  particular  subject,  and  in  virtue  of  its  own  activity,  and 
what  it  itself  does ;  reconciliation  is  not  brought  about,  nor  can 
it  be  brought  about,  by  the  subject  in  its  character  as  subject. 

"This  is  the  nature  of  the  need  when  the  question  is.  By 
what  means  can  it  be  satisfied  ?  Reconciliation  can  be  brought 
about  only  when  the  annulling  of  the  division  has  been  arrived 
at;  when  what  seems  to  shun  reconciliation,  this  opposition, 
namely,  is  non-existent;  when  the  divine  truth  is  seen  to  be 
for  this,  the  resolved  or  cancelled  contradiction,  in  which  the 
two  opposites  lay  aside  their  mutually  abstract  relation. 

"Here  again,  accordingly,  the  question  above  referred  to 
once  more  arises.  Can  the  subject  not  bring  about  this  re- 
conciliation by  itself  by  means  of  its  own  action,  by  bringing 
its  inner  life  to  correspond  with  the  divine  Idea  through  its 
own  piety  and  devoutness,  and  by  giving  expression  to  this  in 
actions?  And,  further,  can  the  individual  subject  not  do  this, 
or,  at  least,  may  not  all  men  do  it  who  rightly  will  to  adopt  the 
divine  law  as  theirs,  so  that  heaven  might  exist  on  earth,  and 
the  Spirit  in  its  graciousness  actually  live  here  and  have  a  real 
existence?  The  question  is  as  to  whether  the  subject  can  or 
cannot  effect  this  in  virtue  of  its  own  powers  as  subject.  The 
ordinary  idea  is  that  it  can  do  this.  What  we  have  to  notice 
here,  and  what  must  be  carefully  kept  in  mind,  is  that  we  are 
dealing  with  the  subject  thought  of  as  standing  at  one  of  the 
two  extremes,  as  existing  for  itself.  To  subjectivity  belongs,  as 
a  characteristic  feature,  the  power  of  positing,  and  this  means 
that  some  particular  thing  exists  owing  to  me.  This  positing 
or  making  actual,  this  doing  of  actions,  &c.,  takes  place  through 


HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY  237 

me,  it  matters  not  what  the  content  is;  the  act  of  producing 
is  consequently  a  one-sided  characteristic,  and  the  product  is 
merely  something  posited,  or  dependent  for  its  existence  on 
something  else;  it  remains  as  such  merely  in  a  condition  of 
abstract  freedom.  The  question  referred  to  consequently  comes 
to  be  a  question  as  to  whether  it  can  by  its  act  of  positing 
produce  this.  This  positing  must  essentially  be  a  pre-positing, 
a  presupposition,  so  that  what  is  posited  is  also  something 
implicit.  The  unity  of  subjectivity  and  objectivity,  this  divine 
unity,  must  be  a  presupposition  so  far  as  my  act  of  positing  is 
concerned,  and  it  is  only  then  that  it  has  a  content,  a  sub- 
stantial element  in  it,  and  the  content  is  Spirit,  otherwise  it  is 
subjective  and  formal;  it  is  only  then  that  it  gets  a  true, 
substantial  content.  When  this  presupposition  thus  gets  a 
definite  character  it  loses  its  one-sidedness,  and  when  a  definite 
signification  is  given  to  a  presupposition  of  this  kind  the  one- 
sidedness  is  in  this  way  removed  and  lost.  Kant  and  Fichte 
tell  us  that  man  can  sow,  can  do  good  only  on  the  presup- 
position that  there  is  a  moral  order  in  the  world ;  he  does  not 
know  whether  what  he  does  will  prosper  and  succeed ;  he  can 
only  act  on  the  presupposition  that  the  Good  by  its  very  nature 
invplves  growth  and  success,  that  it  is  not  merely  something 
posited,  but,  on  the  contrary,  is  in  its  own  nature  objective. 
Presupposition  involves  essential  determination. 

"The  harmony  of  this  contradiction  must  accordingly  be 
represented  as  something  which  is  a  presupposition  for  the 
subject.  The  Notion,  in  getting  to  know  the  divine  unity, 
knows  that  God  essentially  exists  in-and-for-Himself,  and  con- 
sequently what  the  subject  thinks,  and  its  activity,  have  no 
meaning  in  themselves,  but  are  and  exist  only  in  virtue  of  that 
presupposition^." 

248.  Hegel's  doctrine  of  Grace,  then,  comes  to  this,  that 
man,  as  considered  in  his  subjectivity, — that  is,  in  his  mere 
particularity — cannot  effect  the  improvement  which  he  needs. 
That  improvement  can  only  be  effected  through  the  unity  of 
subjectivity  and  objectivity,  "this  divine  unity."   And,  as  this 

1  op.  cit.  ii.  277  (iii.  67). 


238  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

unity  is  itself  the  goal  to  which  the  improvement  aspires,  this 
means  that  the  goal  can  only  be  reached,  sub  specie  temjporis, 
because,  sub  specie  aeternitatis ,  the  runners  have  been  always 
there.  But  this  divine  unity  of  the  subjective  and  objective 
is  just  the  manifestation  of  God  in  man,  which  is  the  whole 
nature  of  man.  And,  therefore,  this  eternal  reality,  on  whose 
existence  depends  our  temporal  progress,  is  nothing  outside  us, 
or  imparted  to  us.  It  is  our  own  deepest  nature — our  only  real 
nature.  It  is  our  destiny  to  become  perfect,  sub  specie  temporis, 
because  it  is  our  nature  to  be  eternally  perfect,  sub  specie 
aeternitatis.  We  become  perfect  in  our  own  right.  It  is  true 
that  our  perfection  depends  on  God.  But  God,  viewed  ade- 
quately, is  the  community  of  which  we  are  parts.  And  God  is 
a  community  of  such  a  kind  that  the  whole  is  found  perfectly 
in  every  part^. 

Whether  this  doctrine  is  compatible  with  Christianity  or 
not,  is  a  question,  as  I  have  already  explained,  which  is  not 
for  our  present  consideration.  But  it  can,  at  any  rate,  give 
us  no  grounds  for  calling  Hegel  a  Christian,  for  it  is  by  no 
means  exclusively  or  especially  Christian.  All  mystical  Ideal- 
ism is  permeated  by  the  idea  that  only  the  good  is  truly  real, 
and  that  evil  is  doomed  to  be  defeated  because  it  does  not 
really  exist.  In  Hegel's  own  words — "the  consummation  of 
the  infinite  End... consists  merely  in  removing  the  illusion 
which  makes  it  seem  yet  unaccomplished^." 

249.  Hegel's  doctrine  of  Grace,  it  will  be  noticed,  is 
identical  with  the  assertion  of  the  immediate  unity  of  the 
human  and  divine,  which  he  tells  us  is  the  fundamental 
thought  in  the  teaching  of  Jesus.  But  the  doctrine  of  Grace 
is  only  the  complement  of  the  doctrine  of  Original  Sin.  It 
would  seem,  then,  that  Hegel's  view  was  that  the  Christian 
Church  remedied  the  one-sided  character  of  its  founder's  teach- 
ing, by  putting  Original  Sin  by  the  side  of  Grace,  and  thus 
emphasising  both  the  unity  and  the  separation  of  the  human 
and  the  divine.  But  the  Church  would  not  be  able  to  see 
the  true  reconciliation  and  unity  of  these  doctrines,  since  it 

^  Cp.  above.  Section  14. 

2  Encyclopaedia,  Section  212,  lecture  note. 


HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY  239 

could  never  rise  to  the  full  height  of  speculative  thought. 
It  could  only  hold  them  side  by  side,  or  unite  them  by  some 
merely  external  bond. 

250.  We  now  pass  to  the  sixth  and  last  point  on  which 
we  have  to  compare  the  system  of  Hegel  with  Christianity — 
his   views    on    morality.      There    is   no    doubt   that   Hegel's 
judgments  as  to  what  conduct  was  virtuous,  and  what  conduct 
was  vicious,  would  on  the  whole  agree  with  the  judgments 
which   would   be   made   under   the  influence   of  Christianity. 
But  this  proves  nothing.    Fortunately  for  mankind,  the  moral 
judgments  of  all  men,  whatever  their  religious  or  philosophical 
opinions,  show  great  similarity,  though  not  of  course  perfect 
coincidence.    Different  systems  of  religion  may  lead  to  different  \^ 
opinions  on  the  exact  limits  of  virtue  and  duty  in  such  matters             ^ 
as  veracity  or  chastity.    And  they  may,  on  the  authority  of          ^     . 
revelation,   introduce  additional  positive   duties,_,such   as  to       ^       X" 
observe  the  seventh  day,  or  to  abstain  fron^'beef.    But  the    ^      \ 
great  mass  of  morality  remains  unaffected  in^its-eontent  by^^  a  ^-^ 
dogmatic  changes.                                                                                      \ 

Dift'erent  religions,  however,  may  lay  the  emphasis  in 
morality  differently.  They  may  differ  in  the  relative  import- 
ance which  they  attach  to  various  moral  qualities.  And  it 
is  here  that  Hegel  separates  himself  from  Christianity.  It 
is  just  that  side  of  morality  on  which  Christianity  lays  the 
most  stress  which  is  least  important  for  Hegel.  This  appears 
in  several  ways. 

251.  {a)  Christianity  habitually  attaches  enormous  im- 
portance to  the  idea  of  sin.  The  difference  between  vice  and 
virtue  is  absolute,  and  it  is  of  fundamental  importance.  It 
is  unnecessary  to  quote  examples  of  this,  or  to  enlarge  on  the 
way  in  which  the  sense  of  sin,  the  punishment  of  sin,  the 
atonement  for  sin,  have  been  among  the  most  prominent 
elements  in  the  reUgious  consciousness  of  the  Christian  world. 

This  idea  is  entirely  alien  to  Hegel.  I  do  not  wish  to  insist 
so  much  on  his  belief  that  all  sin,  like  all  other  evil,  is,  from  the 
deepest  point  of  view,  unreal,  and  that  stib  specie  aeternitatis 
all  reality  is  perfect.  It  might  be  urged  that  this  view  was 
logically  implied  in  any  system  which  accepted  the  ultimate 


240  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

triumph  of  the  good,  and  that  Hegel  had  only  developed  a 
doctrine  which  was  involved  in  Christianity,  even  if  it  was 
imperfectly  understood  by  many  Christians. 

But  the  real  difference  lies  in  Hegel's  treatment  of  sin 
as  something  relatively  good,  which  we  noticed  above.  Sin 
is  for  Hegel  not  the  worst  state  to  be  in.  Virtue  is  better 
than  sin,  but  sin  is  better  than  innocence.  And  since,  as  we 
saw  in  deahng  with  Original  Sin,  the  only  path  from  innocence 
to  virtue  is  through  sin,  it  follows  that  to  commit  sin  is,  in 
some  cases  at  least,  a  moral  advance.  I  have  tried  to  show 
in  a  previous  chapter  that  such  a  belief  does  not  obhterate 
the  distinction  between  vice  and  virtue,  or  destroy  any  in- 
centive to  choose  virtue  rather  than  vice.  But  such  a  belief 
is  clearly  quite  incompatible  with  an  assertion  that  the  dis- 
tinction between  vice  and  virtue  is  primal,  and  of  supreme 
importance  from  the  standpoint  of  the  universe  at  large. 

252.  (b)  Again,  Christianity  was  the  first  religion  to  lay 
paramount  stress  in  morals  on  the  individual  conscience  of 
the  moral  agent.  The  responsibility  of  each  man's  actions 
was  no  longer  taken — it  was  not  even  allowed  to  be  shared — 
by  the  state  or  the  family.  And  thus  the  central  question  for 
ethics  became  more  subjective.  The  important  point  was  not 
whether  an  action  tended  to  realise  the  good,  but  whether  it 
was  inspired  by  a  sincere  desire  to  realise  the  good. 

An  unbalanced  insistence  on  the  duties  and  rights  of  the 
individual  conscience  may  produce  very  calamitous  results. 
This  Hegel  tells  us  with  extraordinary  force  and  vigour  i. 
But  he  goes  so  far  in  his  effort  to  avoid  this  error,  that  his 
system  becomes  defective  in  the  reverse  direction.  For,  after 
ail,  it  must  be  admitted  that,  although  a  man  may  fall  into 
the  most  abject  degradation  with  the  full  approval  of  his 
conscience,  yet  he  cannot  be  really  moral  without  that  approval. 
The  subjective  conviction  is  by  no  means  the  whole  of  morality, 
but  it  is  an  essential  part. 

Nor  is  morality  altogether  a  social  matter.  It  is  very 
largely  social.     To  live  in  a  healthy  society  gives  important 

1  Cp.  Phenomenology,  v.  b.  b.  275 — 284. 


HEGELIANISM    AND    CHRISTIANITY  241 

assistance,  both  by  guidance  and  by  inspiration,  to  the  indi- 
vidual. Nor  would  a  completely  healthy  moral  life  be  possible 
in  a  diseased  society.  And  yet  it  is  possible  to  be  better  than 
the  society  you  hve  in.  It  is  even  possible  to  be  in  fundamental 
opposition  to  it — to  strive  with  all  your  might  Eastwards 
when  society  is  pushing  towards  the  West — and  yet  to  be  in 
the  right. 

Such  considerations  as  these  Hegel  ignores  in  his  recoil 
from  the  morality  of  conscience.  The  great  ethical  question 
for  him  is  not  How  shall  I  be  virtuous  ?  but  What  is  a  perfect 
society?  It  is  an  inadequate  question,  if  taken  by  itself,  but 
it  is  inadequate  by  reason  of  a  reaction  from  the  complementary 
inadequacy.  And  it  is  in  the  direction  of  this  complementary 
inadequacy — of  excessive  subjectivity — that  the  morality  of 
Christianity  has  always  diverged  in  so  far  as  it  diverged 
at  all. 

253.  (c)  The  exclusively  social  nature  of  Hegel's  moraUty 
comes  out  in  another  way — in  its  limitation  to  the  society 
of  our  present  life.  It  may  be  doubted  if  this  is  to  be 
attributed  to  a  disbelief  in  individual  immortality,  or  if — as 
I  believe  to  be  the  case — he  believed  in  our  immortality  but 
felt  no  great  interest  in  it.  But  whatever  may  be  the  cause, 
the  fact  cannot  be  doubted.  It  would  be  difl&cult,  I  believe, 
to  find  a  word  in  Hegel  which  suggests  that  our  duties,  our 
ideals,  or  our  motives  are  in  the  least  affected  by  the  probability 
or  possibility  of  our  surviving  the  death  of  our  bodies.  And 
this  is  the  more  striking  since  a  life  in  time  could,  according 
to  Hegel,  only  express  reality  very  inadequately,  and  could 
never  be  fully  explained  except  by  reference  to  something 
beyond  it. 

Here,  again,  the  characteristic  tendency  of  Christian  morality 
is  to  over-emphasise  the  side  which  Hegel  ignores.  Whenever  the 
Christian  Church  has  failed  to  keep  the  balance  true  between 
life  before  and  after  death  it  has  always  been  in  the  direction 
of  unduly  ignoring  the  former.  Not  content  with  treating  our 
present  existence  as  imperfect,  it  has  pronounced  it  intrinsi- 
cally worthless,  and  only  important  in  so  far  as  our  actions 
here  may  be  the  occasions  of  divine  reward  and  punishment 

MCT.  •  16 


242  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

hereafter.  I  am  not  asserting,  of  course,  that  the  Christian 
Church  has  always  held  such  a  view  as  this,  but  only  that, 
when  it  did  depart  from  the  truth,  it  was  into  this  extreme 
that  it  fell — exactly  opposite  to  the  extreme  adopted  by  Hegel. 

254.  (d)  Another  form  of  the  specially  social  character 
of  Hegelian  ethics  is  the  preference  which  he  giy,es,  when 
he  does  consider  individual  characters,  to  social  utility  over 
purity  of  motive.  A  man's  moral  worth  for  Hegel  depends 
much  more  on  what  he  does  than  on  what  he  is.  Or — to  put 
it  less  crudely — he  is  to  be  admired  if  what  he  does  is  useful, 
even  if  he  does  it  for  motives  which  are  not  admirable.  For 
Hegel  the  man  who  takes  a  city  is  better  than  the  man  who 
governs  his  temper,  but  takes  no  cities.  And  this  consideration 
of  result  rather  than  motive  is  of  course  quite  alien  to  the 
morality  of  conscience  which  is  specially  prominent  in  Chris- 
tianity. 

255.  (e)  Connected  with  this  is  the  relative  importance 
of  morality  as  a  whole.  The  Christian  Church  has  always  had 
a  strong  tendency  to  place  virtue  above  all  other  elements 
of  human  perfection,  not  only  as  quantitatively  more  important, 
but  as  altogether  on  a  different  level.  If  a  man  is  virtuous, 
all  other  perfections  are  unnecessary  to  gain  him  the  divine 
approbation.  If  he  is  not  virtuous,  they  are  all  useless.  There 
is  nothing  of  this  to  be  found  in  Hegel.  He  does  not  show 
the  slightest  inclination  to  regard  right  moral  choice  as  more 
important  than  right  intellectual  judgment.  And  moreover 
he  was  firmly  convinced  of  the  unity  of  human  nature,  and 
of  the  impossibility  of  cutting  it  up  into  unconnected  depart- 
ments. Within  certain  limits,  no  doubt,  one  man  might  be 
stronger  morally,  another  intellectually.  But  it  is  impossible 
for  failure  in  one  direction  not  to  injure  development  in 
another.  Hegel  would  not  only  have  admitted  that  every 
knave  is  more  or  less  a  fool — which  is  a  fairly  popular  state- 
ment with  the  world  in  general.  He  would  have  insisted 
on  supplementing  it  by  a  proposition  by  no  means  so  likely 
to  win  general  favour — that  every  fool  is  more  or  less  a 
knave. 

Christianity,   again,   is  often  found  to  hold  that,   in  the 


HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY  243 

most  important  department  of  knowledge,  truth  can  be  at- 
tained without  great  intellectual  gifts  or  exertions,  by  the 
exercise  of  a  faith  the  possession  of  which  is  looked  on  as  a 
moral  virtue.  Sometimes  the  further  assertion  is  made  that 
the  exercise  of  the  intellect  is  not  only  unnecessary  for  this 
purpose,  but  useless,  and  sometimes  it  is  pronounced  to  be 
actually  harmful.  The  more  you  reason  about  God,  it  has 
been  said,  the  less  you  know. 

This  theory,  even  in  its  mildest  form,  is  absolutely  alien — 
indeed,  abhorrent — to  Hegel.  The  Kingdom  of  God  may  be 
still  hidden  in  part  from  the  wise  and  prudent.  But  of  one 
thing  Hegel  is  absolutely  certain.  It  is  not  revealed  to  babes. 
You  cannot  feel  rightly  towards  God,  except  in  so  far  as  you 
know  him  rightly.  You  cannot  know  him  rightly,  except  in 
so  far  as  you  are  able  and  willing  to  use  your  reason.  If  you 
arrived  at  the  right  conclusions  in  any  other  way,  they  would 
be  of  little  value  to  you,  since  you  would  hold  them  blindly 
and  mechanically.  But  in  truth  you  cannot  arrive  at  the 
right  conclusions  in  their  fulness  in  any  other  way.  For  all 
irrational  methods  leave  marks  of  their  irrationality  in  the 
conclusion. 

256.  (/)  There  is  no  trace  in  Hegel  of  any  feeUng  of 
absolute  humility  and  contrition  of  man  before  God.  Indeed, 
it  would  be  scarcely  possible  that  there  should  be.  Sin,  for 
Hegel,  is  so  much  less  real  than  man,  that  it  is  impossible  for 
man  ever  to  regard  himself  as  altogether  sinful.  Sin  is  a 
mere  appearance.  Like  all  appearance,  it  is  based  on  reality. 
But  the  reahty  it  is  based  on  is  not  sin.  Like  all  reality,  it  is 
perfectly  good.    The  sinfulness  is  part  of  the  appearance. 

Man's  position  is  very  different.  God  is  a  community,  and 
every  man  is  part  of  it.  In  a  perfect  unity,  such  as  God  is,  the 
parts  are  not  subordinate  to  the  whole.  The  whole  is  in  every 
part,  and  every  part  is  essential  to  the  whole  ^.  Every  man  is 
thus  a  perfect  manifestation  of  God.  He  would  not  be  such  a 
manifestation  of  God,  indeed,  if  he  were  taken  in  isolation,  but, 
being  taken  in  the  community,  he  embodies  God  perfectly. 

Such    a   being   is    perfect    in    his    own    right,   and   sin   is 
^  Cp.  above,  Section  34. 

16—2 


244  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

superficial  with  regard  to  him,  as  it  is  with  regard  to  the 
Absolute.  Sub  specie  aeternitatis  he  is  sinless.  Sub  specie  tem- 
poris  he  is  destined  to  become  sinless,  not  from  any  external 
gift  of  divine  grace,  but  because  he  is  man — and  God. 

It  is  true  that  Hegel  speaks  of  man  as  sinful,  while  he  does 
not  ascribe  sin  to  God.  But  this  is  merely  a  question  of 
terminology.  He  uses  man  to  describe  the  individuals  who 
constitute  reality,  whether  they  are  viewed  in  their  real  and 
eternal  perfection,  or  their  apparent  and  temporal  imperfection. 
But  he  only  speaks  of  reality  as  God  when  he  speaks  of  its 
eternal  and  perfect  nature.  So  man  is  called  sinful  and  not 
God.  But  in  fact  both,  man  and  God,  part  and  whole,  are  in 
the  same  position.  Neither,  in  truth,  is  sinful.  Both  are  the 
reality  on  which  the  appearance  of  sin  is  based.  And  sin  really 
only  belongs  to  us  in  the  same  way  that  it  belongs  to  God. 

Again,  as  we  have  seen,  sin  is  for  Hegel  not  the  absolutely 
bad.  It  is  at  any  rate  an  advance  on  innocence.  A  man  who 
knows  himself  to  be  a  sinner  is  ipso  facto  aware  that  there  are 
heights  to  which  he  has  not  reached.  But  Hegel  tells  him  that 
it  is  equally  certain  that  there  are  depths  which  he  has  left 
behind.   No  one  who  has  sinned  can  be  altogether  bad. 

I  have  tried  to  show  in  chapter  vi  that  these  conclusions 
do  not  destroy  our  incentives  to  virtue,  nor  diminish  that 
relative  shame  and  contrition — the  only  species  which  has 
influence  on  action — which  we  feel  when  we  reahse  that  our 
actions  have  fallen  short  of  our  own  ideals,  or  of  the  practice 
of  others.  But  they  certainly  seem  incompatible  with  any 
absolute  shame  or  contrition — with  any  humiliation  of  our- 
selves as  evil  before  an  all-good  God.  It  is  impossible  for  me 
to  regard  myself  as  absolutely  worthless  on  account  of  my  sins, 
if  I  hold  that  those  sins  are  the  necessary  and  inevitable  path 
which  leads  from  something  lower  than  sin  up  to  virtue.  Nor 
can  I  prostrate  myself  before  a  God  of  whom  I  hold  myself  to 
be  a  necessary  part  and  an  adequate  manifestation,  and  who  is 
only  free  from  sin  in  the  sense  in  which  I  myself  am  free  from 
it.  "Hegel,"  said  Heine,  "told  the  young  men  of  Germany  that 
they  were  God.     This  they  found  very  pleasant." 

257.     Let  us  sum  up  the  results  to  which  we  have  attained. 


HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY  245 

They  are   as  follows,     {a)   According  to   Hegel's  doctrine  of 
the    Trinity,    the    Holy    Ghost    is    identical    with    the    entire 
Godhead.    The  Father  and  the  Son  are  either  aspects  in,  or 
illegitimate  abstractions  from,  the  Holy  Ghost,    (b)  God  is  not 
a  person,  but  a  community  of  persons,  who  are  united,  not 
by  a  common  self-consciousness,  but  by  love,     (c)  All  finite 
things  are  incarnations  of  God,  and  have  no  existence  except  as 
incarnations  of  God.    (d)  The  special  significance  of  Jesus  with 
regard  to  the  incarnation  is  merely  that  he  bore  witness  to  that 
truth  in  a  form  which,  while  only  partially  correct,  was  con- 
venient  for   popular   apprehension,     (e)   Hegel's   doctrines   of         ^  ^ 
Original  Sin  and  of  Grace  are  doctrines  which  do  not  belong        ».    ^ 
especially  to  Christianity,  even  if  they  are  compatible  with  it.        V    k 
(/)  Hegel's  morality  has  as  little  resemblance  to  that  of  the       ^  l^ 
Christian  Church  as  the  morality  of  one  honest  man  could  well       vj 
have  to  that  of  other  honest  men  of  the  same  civilization  and     ^     > 
the  same  epoch. 

258.  Such  a  system  as  this  may  or  may  not  properly  be  v*\  _ 
called  Christianity.  But  it  is  at  any  rate  certain  that  it  is  very  ^  ^ 
different  from  the  mere  ordinary  forms  of  Christianity,  and  that  ^  ^ 
a  large  number  of  Christians  would  refuse  it  the  name.  This  V^  **• 
was  still  more  universally  true  in  Hegel's  time.  The  question  ^  ^ 
remains  why  Hegel  chose  to  call  such  a  system  Christian.  "^^  ^  I 

259.  It  is  impossible  to  believe  that  it  was  a  deliberate 
deception,  prompted  by  a  desire  for  his  own  interest.  There  is 
nothing  whatever  in  Hegel's  life  which  could  give  us  any 
reason  to  accuse  him  of  such  conduct.  And,  moreover,  if  it 
were  for  such  a  purpose  that  the  Philosophy  of  Religion  was 
arranged,  it  was  arranged  very  inadequately.  It  might  possibly 
make  people  think  that  its  author  was  a  Christian.  But  it 
could  not  possibly  conceal  from  them  that,  if  so,  he  was  a  very 
unorthodox  Christian.  And  unorthodoxy  attracts  persecution 
nearly  as  much  as  complete  disbelief.  If  Hegel  had  been  lying, 
he  would  surely  have  lied  more  thoroughly. 

It  might  be  suggested  that  the  deception  was  inspired  by  a 
sense  of  duty.  The  Philosophy  of  Religion  is  not  in  itself  a 
work  for  general  reading.  But  its  contents  might  become 
known  to  the  general  public  at  second-hand.    And  Hegel,  it 


246  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

might  be  supposed,  did  not  wish  to  upset  the  belief  in  Christianity 
of  such  people  as  were  unable  to  rise  to  the  heights  of  specula- 
tive thought. 

But  this  seems  rather  inconsistent  with  Hegel's  character. 
He  has  been  accused  of  many  things,  but  no  one  has  accused 
him  of  under-estimating  the  importance  of  philosophy,  or  of 
paying  excessive  deference  to  the  non-philosophical  plain  man. 
It  is  incredible  that  he  should  have  consented  to  distort  an 
academic  exposition  of  some  of  his  chief  conclusions  for  the 
plain  man's  benefit.  Nor,  again,  is  there  anything  in  his 
writings  which  could  lead  us  to  suppose  that  he  thought  that 
the  plain  man  ought  to  have  lies  told  him  on  religious  matters. 
The  eulogies  which  he  passes  on  the  work  of  the  Reformation 
point  to  a  directly  contrary  conclusion. 

It  is,  no  doubt,  not  impossible  that  Hegel  may  have  been 
determined  by  the  thought  of  the  non-philosophical  majority 
to  use  the  terminology  of  Christianity,  provided  that  he  really 
thought  it  to  some  degree  appropriate.  But  it  is  impossible  to 
suppose  that  he  used,  either  from  benevolence  or  from  selfish- 
ness, language  which  he  held  to  be  quite  inappropriate.  And 
we  are  left  with  the  question — why  did  he  hold  it  appropriate 
to  call  his  system  Christian? 

260.  It  has  been  suggested^  that  every  man  should  be 
called  a  Christian  who  fulfils  two  conditions.  The  first  is,  that 
he  believes  the  universe  as  a  whole  to  be  something  rational 
and  righteous — something  which  deserves  our  approval  and 
admiration.  The  second  is,  that  he  finds  himself  in  so  much 
sympathy  with  the  life  and  character  of  Jesus,  that  he  desires 
to  consecrate  his  rehgious  feelings  and  convictions  by  associating 
them  with  the  name  of  Jesus. 

Of  all  the  attempts  to  define  the  outer  hmits  within  which 
the  word  Christian  may  be  apphed,  this  is  perhaps  the  most 
successful.  Few  other  interpretations,  certainly,  stretch  those 
limits  so  widely.  And  yet  even  this  interpretation  fails  to 
include  Hegel.  For  there  are  no  traces  in  his  writings  of  any 
such  personal  sympathy  with  the  historical  Jesus.  We  find  no 
praise  of  his  life  and  character — which  indeed  did  not  present 
^  By  Dr  Eashdall,  International  Journal  of  Ethics,  1896-7,  p.  137. 


HEGELIANISM    AND    CHRISTIANITY  247 

the  civic  virtues  by  which  Hegel's  admiration  was  most  easily 
excited.  And  of  his  moral  teaching  we  find  at  least  as  much 
criticism  as  praise^.  It  is  perhaps  scarcely  going  too  far  to  say 
that  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  how  any  reasonable  and  candid 
man  could  write  about  the  Christian  religion  with  less  personal 
sympathy  for  its  founder  than  is  shown  by  Hegel. 

261.  We  must  return  to  the  first  of  the  two  questions 
stated  in  Section  207.  For  the  explanation  of  Hegel's  use  of 
the  word  Christianity  lies,  I  beheve,  in  this — that,  according  to 
him,  not  even  the  highest  rehgion  was  capable  of  adequately 
expressing  the  truth.  It  could  only  symbolise  it  in  a  way 
which  was  more  or  less  inadequate.  This  is  partly  concealed 
by  the  fact  that  in  the  last  division  of  his  Philosophy  of 
Religion  he  treats  of  absolute  truth  in  its  fulness,  no  longer 
concealed  by  symbols.  But  the  subordinate  position  of  religion 
is  beyond  all  doubt. 

In  the  Philosophy  of  Spirit,  the  last  triad  is  Art,  Religion, 
and  Philosophy.  Philosophy,  then,  is  the  synthesis  of  an 
opposition  of  which  Religion  is  one  of  the  terms.  There  must, 
therefore,  be  some  inadequacy  in  Religion  which  is  removed  by 
Philosophy.  Philosophy,  says  Hegel,  "is  the  unity  of  Art  and 
Religion.  Whereas  the  vision-method  of  Art,  external  in  point 
of  form,  is  but  subjective  production,  and  shivers  the  sub- 
stantial content  into  many  separate  shapes,  and  whereas 
Religion,  with  its  separation  into  parts,  opens  it  out  in  mental 
picture,  and  mediates  what  is  thus  opened  out;  Philosophy 
not  merely  keeps  them  together  to  make  a  total,  but  even 
unifies  them  into  the  simple  spiritual  vision,  and  then  in  that 
raises  them  to  self-conscious  thought.  Such  consciousness  is 
thus  the  intelfigible  unity  (cognized  by  thought)  of  art  and 
rehgion,  in  which  the  diverse  elements  in  the  content  are 
cognized  as  necessary,  and  this  necessary  as  free  2." 

And,  in  the  Philosophy  of  Religion,  "Religion  itself  is  this 

^  For  example,  of  the  moral  commands  of  Jesus  he  says,  "for  those  stages 
in  which  we  are  occupied  with  absolute  truth  they  contain  nothing  striking,  or 
else  they  are  already  contained  in  other  reUgions,  and  in  the  Jewish  religion." 
Philosophy  of  Religion,  ii.  291  (trans,  iii.  82). 

2  Encyclopaedia,  Section  572. 


248  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

action,  this  activity  of  the  thinking  reason,  and  of  the  man  who 
thinks  rationally, — who  as  individual  posits  himself  as  the 
Universal,  and  annulling  himself  as  individual,  finds  his  true 
•self  to  be  the  Universal.  Philosophy  is  in  like  manner  thinking 
reason,  only  that  this  action  in  which  religion  consists  appears 
in  philosophy  in  the  form  of  thought,  while  religion  as,  so  to 
speak,  reason  thinking  naively,  stops  short  in  the  sphere  of 
general  ideas  {Vorstellung)^." 

262.  There  can  therefore  be  no  question  whether  Chris- 
tianity is  the  absolute  truth.  For  there  is  no  question  that 
Christianity  must  be  counted  as  religion,  according  to  the 
definition  of  religion  given  in  the  passage  quoted  above  from 
the  Philosophy  of  Spirit.  And  therefore  it  cannot  be  com- 
pletely adequate  to  express  the  truth. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  all  religions  express  the  truth  with 
more  or  less  adequacy,  and  the  degree  of  this  adequacy  varies. 
It  increases,  Hegel  tells  us,  as  we  pass  along  the  chain  of 
religions  given  in  the  Philosophy  of  Religion,  from  the  lowest 
Magic  up  to  the  religion  of  Ancient  Rome.  One  religion  only 
(according  to  Hegel's  exposition,  which  practically  ignores  the 
inconvenient  fact  of  Islam)  succeeds  to  the  Roman.  This  is 
the  Christian.  Of  all  the  religions  of  the  world,  therefore,  this 
is  to  be  held  the  least  inadequate  to  express  the  truth. 

When  Hegel  calls  Christianity  the  absolute  religion,  there- 
fore, this  cannot  mean  that  it  expresses  the  absolute  truth. 
For,  being  a  religion,  it  cannot  do  this.  He  means  that  it  is  as 
absolute  as  reUgion  can  be,  that  it  expresses  the  truth  with 
only  that  inaccuracy  which  is  the  inevitable  consequence  of 
the  symbolic  and  "pictorial"  character  of  all  rehgion. 

Does  he  mean,  however,  to  limit  this  assertion  to  the  past, 
and  only  to  say  that  no  religion  has  come  so  near  to  absolute 
truth  as  Christianity  does?  Or  would  he  go  further,  and  say 
that  it  would  be  impossible  that  any  religion,  while  it  remained 
religion,  should  ever  express  the  truth  more  adequately  than 
Christianity?  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  he  would  have  been 
prepared  to  make  the  wider  assertion.     Nothing  less  would 

^  Philosophy  of  Religion,  i.  188  (trans,  i.  194). 


HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRTSTTANTTY  249 

justify  the  strength  of  his  language  in  calling  Christianity 
the  absolute  religion.  Moreover  in  all  the  apphcations  of  his 
philosophy  to  empirical  facts,  he  shows  a  strong  tendency  to 
suppose  that  the  highest  manifestation  of  Spirit  already  known 
to  us  is  also  the  highest  which  it  is  possible  should  happen — 
although  the  degree  in  which  he  yields  to  this  tendency  has 
been  exaggerated^. 

This  more  sweeping  assertion  we  must  pronounce  to  be 
unjustified.  We  cannot  be  certain  of  the  future  except  by  an 
argument  a  priori,  and  arguments  d  priori  can  only  deal  with 
the  a  priori  element  in  knowledge.  No  conclusion  about  the 
nature  of  the  empirical  element  in  knowledge  can  be  reached 
d  priori.  Now  the  degree  of  adequacy  with  which  a  religion 
can  express  absolute  truth  depends  on  the  precise  character  of 
its  symbolism.  And  the  precise  character  of  the  symbolism  of 
any  religion  is  an  empirical  fact,  which  cannot  be  deduced 
a  jyriori. 

It  is  therefore  impossible  to  be  certain  that  no  religion  will 
arise  in  the  future  which  will  express  the  truth  more  adequately 
than  Christianity.  It  may  be  said,  indeed,  that  such  a  religion 
would  be  improbable.  It  might  be  maintained  that  Christianity 
gets  so  near  to  absolute  truth,  that  if  people  got  any  nearer 
they  would  have  reached  the  truth  itself,  and  require  no  symbols 
at  all.  But  of  this  it  is  impossible  to  be  certain.  New  reUgions 
cannot  be  predicted,  but  it  does  not  follow  that  they  are  im- 
possible. 

263.  The  truth  of  Hegel's  statement  however,  if  it  is 
confined  to  the  past,  cannot  be  denied.  No  religion  in  history 
resembles  the  Hegelian  philosophy  so  closely  as  Christianity. 
The  two  great  questions  for  religion — if  indeed  they  can  be 
called  two — are  the  nature  of  the  Absolute  and  its  relation  to 
the  finite.  The  orthodox  Christian  doctrines  of  the  Trinity  and 
the  Incarnation  are  not,  as  we  have  seen,  compatible  with 
Hegel's  teaching.  But  they  are  far  closer  to  that  teaching  than 
the  doctrines  of  any  other  religion  known  to  history. 

In  this  way,  and  this  way,  I  believe,  alone,  the  difficult 

^  Cp.  Studies  in  the  Hegelian  Dialectic,  chap.  vi. 


250  HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY 

question  of  Hegel's  relation  to  Christianity  admits  of  a  solution. 
The  difficulty  is  increased  by  a  change  in  Hegel's  method  of 
exposition  when  he  reaches  the  Absolute  Religion.  In  deahng 
with  the  lower  religions,  he  had  described  those  rehgions  in  the 
form  in  which  they  were  actually  held  by  those  who  believed 
them — or,  at  any  rate,  in  what  he  beUeved  to  be  that  form — ■ 
and  had  then  pointed  out  in  what  degree  they  fell  short  of 
absolute  truth.  But,  when  he  came  to  Christianity,  he  did  not 
expound  the  Christian  doctrines  themselves,  but  that  absolute 
truth  which,  according  to  him,  they  imperfectly  symbolised. 
This  not  unnaturally  produced  the  impression  that  the  doctrines 
of  Christianity  not  only  symbolised  the  absolute  truth,  but 
actually  were  the  absolute  truth.  But  closer  examination 
dispels  this,  for  it  shows,  as  I  have  endeavoured  to  show  in 
this  chapter,  that  Hegel's  doctrines. are  incompatible  with  any 
form  of  Christianity  which  has  ever  gained  acceptance  among 
men. 

264.  Thus  the  result  is  that  Hegel  does  not  regard  his 
system  as  Christian,  but  holds  Christianity  to  be  the  nearest 
approach  which  can  be  made  to  his  system  under  the  imperfect 
form  of  reUgion.  And  that  he  is  right  in  both  parts  of  this — 
the  positive  and  the  negative — may  be  confirmed  from  ex- 
perience. 

Christian  apologists  have  not  infrequently  met  the  attacks 
of  their  opponents  with  Hegelian  arguments.  And  so  long  as 
there  are  external  enemies  to  meet,  the  results  are  all  that  they 
can  desire.  Against  Scepticism,  against  Materialism,  against 
Spinozistic  Pantheism,  against  Deism  or  Arianism — nothing  is 
easier  than  to  prove  by  the  aid  of  Hegel  that  wherever  such 
creeds  differ  from  orthodox  Christianity,  they  are  in  the  wrong. 
But  this  is  not  the  end.  The  ally  who  has  been  called  in  proves 
to  be  an  enemy  in  disguise — the  least  evident  but  the  most 
dangerous.  The  doctrines  which  have  been  protected  from 
external  refutation  are  found  to  be  transforming  themselves 
till  they  are  on  the  point  of  melting  away,  and  orthodoxy  finds 
it  necessary  to  separate  itself  from  so  insidious  an  ally. 

This  double  relation  of  Hegelianism  to  Christian  orthodoxy 
can  be  explained  by  the  theory  which  I  have  propounded.    If 


HEGELIANISM   AND    CHRISTIANITY  251 

orthodox  Christianity,  while  incompatible  with  Hegelianism,  is 
nevertheless  closer  to  it  than  any  other  religion,  it  is  natural 
that  Hegehanism  should  support  Christianity  against  all  attacks 
but  its  own,  and  should  then  reveal  itself  as  an  antagonist — an 
antagonist  all  the  more  deadly  because  it  works  not  by  denial 
but  by  completion. 


CHAPTER   IX 

THE  FURTHER  DETER^HNATION  OF  THE   ABSOLUTE 

265.  The  progress  of  an  idealistic  philosophy  may,  from 
some  points  of  view,  be  divided  into  three  stages.  The  problem 
of  the  first  is  to  prove  that  reality  is  not  exclusively  matter. 
The  problem  of  the  second  is  to  prove  that  reality  is  exclusively 
spirit.  The  problem  of  the  third  is  to  determine  what  is  the 
fundamental  nature  of  spirit. 

The  result  of  the  second  stage,  though  comprehensive,  is 
still  abstract,  and  is  therefore  defective  even  from  a  theoretical 
point  of  view.  It  does  not  enable  us  to  see  the  ultimate  nature 
of  the  universe,  and  to  perceive  that  it  is  rational  and  righteous. 
We  only  know  in  an  abstract  way  that  it  must  be  rational  and 
righteous,  because  it  fulfils  the  formal  condition  of  rationahty 
and  righteousness — harmony  between  the  nature  of  the  uni- 
versal and  the  nature  of  the  individual.  Such  a  skeleton  is 
clearly  not  complete  knowledge.  And  it  is  therefore,  to  some 
extent,  incorrect  and  inadequate  knowledge ;  for  it  is  knowledge 
of  an  abstraction  only,  while  the  truth,  as  always,  is  concrete. 
The  content  of  the  universe  has  not  been  produced  by,  or  in 
accordance  with,  a  self-subsistent  law.  It  is  the  individual 
content  of  the  universe  which  is  concrete  and  self-subsistent, 
and  the  law  is  an  abstraction  of  one  side  of  it,  with  which 
we  cannot  be  contented.  From  a  theoretical  point  of  view, 
then,  the  assertion  of  the  supremacy  of  spirit  is  comparatively 
empty,  unless  we  can  determine  the  fundamental  nature  of 
spirit. 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE    253 

266.  The  practical  importance  of  this  determination  is 
not  less.  As  a  guide  to  life,  the  knowledge  of  the  absolutely 
desirable  end  is,  no  doubt,  not  without  drawbacks.  A  certain 
degree  of  knowledge,  of  virtue,  and  of  happiness,  is  appropriate 
and  possible  for  every  stage  of  the  process  of  spirit.  By  the 
aid  of  reflection  we  may  perceive  the  existence  of  a  stage  much 
higher  than  that  in  which  we  are.  But  the  knowledge  that 
we  shall  reach  it  some  day  is  not  equivalent  to  the  power 
of  reaching  it  at  once.  We  are  entitled  to  as  much  perfection 
as  we  are  fit  for,  and  it  is  useless  to  demand  more.  An 
attempt  to  live  up  to  the  Supreme  Good,  without  regard  to 
present  circumstances,  will  be  not  only  useless,  but,  in  all 
probability,  actually  injurious.  The  true  course  of  our  de- 
velopment at  present  is  mostly  by  thesis  and  antithesis,  and 
efforts  to  become  perfect  as  the  crow  flies  will  only  lead  us 
into  some  blind  alley  from  which  we  shall  have  to  retrace 
our  steps. 

Nevertheless,  the  knowledge  of  the  goal  to  which  we  are 
going  may  occasionally,  if  used  with  discretion,  be  a  help  in 
directing  our  course.  It  will  be  something  if  we  can  find  out 
which  parts  of  our  experience  are  of  value  jper  se,  and  can 
be  pursued  for  their  own  sake,  and  which  parts  are  merely 
subsidiary.  For  however  long  it  may  take  us  to  reach  the 
Absolute,  it  is  sometimes  curiously  near  us  in  isolated  episodes 
of  life,  and  our  attitude  towards  certain  phases  of  consciousness, 
if  not  our  positive  actions,  may  be  materially  affected  by  the 
consideration  of  the  greater  or  less  adequacy  with  which  those 
phases  embody  reality. 

And  a  more  complete  determination  of  the  nature  of  spirit 
would  not  be  unimportant  with  regard  to  its  effect  on  our 
happiness.  The  position  from  which  we  start  has  indeed 
already  attained  to  what  may  be  called  the  religious  stand- 
point. It  assures  us  of  an  ultimate  solution  which  shall  only 
differ  from  our  present  highest  ideals  and  aspirations  by  far 
surpassing  them.  From  a  negative  point  of  view,  this  is 
complete,  and  it  is  far  from  unsatisfactory  as  a  positive  theory. 
But  it  is  probable  that,  if  so  much  knowledge  is  consoling  and 
inspiriting,  more  knowledge  would  be  better.    It  is  good  to 


254    THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

know  that  reality  is  better  than  our  expectations.  It  might 
be  still  better  to  be  able  at  once  to  expect  the  full  good 
that  is  coming.  If  the  truth  is  so  good,  our  hopes  may  well 
become  more  desirable  in  proportion  as  they  become  more 
defined. 

In  other  ways,  too,  more  complete  knowledge  might  conduce 
to  our  greater  happiness.  For  there  are  parts  of  our  lives 
which,  even  as  we  live  them,  seem  incomplete  and  merely 
transitory,  having  no  value  unless  they  lead  on  to  something 
better.  And  there  are  parts  of  our  lives  which  seem  so 
fundamental,  so  absolutely  desirable  in  themselves,  that  we 
could  not  anticipate  without  pain  their  absorption  into  some 
higher  perfection,  as  yet  unknown  to  us,  and  that  we  demand 
that  they  shall  undergo  no  further  change,  except  an  increase 
in  purity  and  intensity.  Now  we  might  be  able  to  show,  of  the 
first  of  these  groups  of  experiences  that  they  are,  in  fact,  mere 
passing  phases,  with  meaning  only  in  so  far  as  they  lead  up 
to  and  are  absorbed  in  something  higher.  And  we  might 
even  be  able  to  show  of  the  second  that  they  are  actually 
fundamental,  lacking  so  far  in  breadth  and  depth,  but  in  their 
explicit  nature  already  revealing  the  implicit  reality.  If  we 
can  do  this,  and  can  justify  the  vague  longings  for  change  on 
the  one  hand,  and  for  permanence  on  the  other,  which  have 
so  much  effect  on  our  lives,  the  gain  to  happiness  which  will 
result  will  not  be  inconsiderable. 

267.  We  have  already  found  reason  to  hold  that  spirit 
is  ultimately  made  up  of  various  finite  individuals,  each  of 
which  finds  his  character  and  individuahty  in  his  relations 
to  the  rest,  and  in  his  perception  that  they  are  of  the  same 
nature  as  himself.  In  this  way  the  Idea  in  each  individual 
has  as  its  object  the  Idea  in  other  individuals^.  We  must 
now  enquire  in  what  manner  those  individuals  will  be  able 
to  express,  at  once  and  completely,  their  own  individuahty  and 
the  unity  of  the  Absolute. 

Human  consciousness  presents  three  aspects — knowledge, 
vohtion,  and  feeling,  i.e.,  pleasure  and  pain.    Knowledge  and 

^  Cp.  Sections  14,  15. 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE    255 

volition  are  correlative  methods  of  endeavouring  to  obtain  that 
unity  between  individuals  which  is  the  perfection  of  spirit, 
while  feeling  is  not  so  much  a  struggle  towards  the  goal  as 
the  result  of  the  process,  so  far  as  it  has  gone.  Through 
knowledge  and  volition  we  gain  harmony,  and,  according  as 
we  have  gained  it  more  or  less  completely,  our  feeling  is 
pleasurable  or  painful.  The  absence  of  any  independent  move- 
ment of  feeling  renders  it  unnecessary,  for  the  present,  to 
consider  it  separately. 

I  shall  first  enquire  what  general  aspect  would  be  presented 
by  spirit,  if  we  suppose  knowledge  and  volition  to  have  become 
as  perfect  as  possible.  It  will  then  be  necessary  to  ask  whether 
knowledge  and  volition  are  permanent  and  ultimate  forms  of 
the  activity  of  spirit.  I  shall  endeavour  to  show  that  they 
are  not,  that  they  both  postulate,  to  redeem  them  from  paradox 
and  impossibility,  an  ideal  which  they  can  never  reach,  and 
that  their  real  truth  and  meaning  is  found  only  in  a  state 
of  consciousness  in  which  they  themselves,  together  with  feel- 
ing, are  swallowed  up  and  transcended  in  a  more  concrete 
unity.  This  unity  I  believe  to  be  essentially  the  same  as  that 
mental  state  which,  in  the  answer  to  our  first  question,  we 
shall  find  to  be  the  practically  interesting  aspect  of  knowledge 
and  volition  in  their  highest  perfection  as  such.  This  state 
will  thus  have  been  shown  to  be,  not  only  the  supremely 
valuable  element  of  reality,  but  also  the  only  true  reality, 
of  which  all  other  spiritual  activities  are  but  distortions  and 
abstractions,  and  in  which  they  are  all  transcended.  It  will 
not  only  be  the  highest  truth  but  the  sole  truth.  We  shall 
have  found  the  complete  determination  of  spirit,  and  therefore 
of  reality. 

268.  Let  us  turn  to  the  first  of  these  questions  and 
consider  what  would  be  our  attitude  towards  the  universe, 
when  both  knowledge  and  volition  had  reached  perfection. 
To  answer  this  we  must  first  determine  in  rather  more  detail 
what  would  be  the  nature  of  perfect  knowledge  and  volition. 

In  the  first  place  we  must  eliminate  knowledge  as  the 
occupation  of  the  student.  The  activity  and  the  pleasure 
which  lie  in  the  search  after  knowledge  can,  as  such,  form 


256    THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

no  part  of  the  Absolute.  For  all  such  activity  implies  that 
some  knowledge  has  not  yet  been  gained,  and  that  the  ideal, 
therefore,  has  not  yet  been  reached.  The  ideal  must  be  one, 
not  of  learning,  but  of  knowing. 

And  the  knowledge  itself  must  be  greatly  changed.  At 
present  much  of  our  knowledge  directly  relates  to  matter; 
all  of  it  is  conditioned  and  mediated  by  matter.  But  if  the 
only  absolute  reality  is  spirit,  then,  when  knowledge  is  perfect, 
we  must  see  nothing  but  spirit  everywhere.  We  must  have 
seen  through  matter  till  it  has  disappeared.  How  far  this 
could  be  done  merely  by  greater  knowledge  on  our  part,  and 
how  far  it  would  be  necessary  for  the  objects  themselves,  which 
we  at  present  conceive  as  matter,  to  develop  exphcitly  quahties 
now  merely  implicit,  is  another  question,  but  it  is  clear  that 
it  would  have  to  be  done,  one  way  or  another,  before  knowledge 
could  be  said  to  be  perfect. 

Nor  is  this  all.  Not  only  all  matter,  but  all  contingency, 
must  be  eliminated.  At  present  we  conceive  of  various  spirits — 
and  even  of  spirit  in  general — as  having  qualities  for  which 
we  can  no  more  find  a  rational  explanation  than  we  can  for 
the  primary  qualities  of  matter,  or  for  its  original  distribution 
in  space.  But  this  must  disappear  in  perfected  knowledge. 
For  knowledge  demands  an  explanation  of  everything,  and 
if,  at  the  last,  we  have  to  base  our  explanation  on  something 
left  unexplained,  we  leave  our  system  incomplete  and  defective. 

Explanation  essentially  consists  of  arguments  from  premises ; 
and  it  would  seem  therefore  that  such  perfection  could  never 
be  attained,  since  each  argument  which  explained  anything 
must  rest  upon  an  unexplained  foundation,  and  so  on,  ad 
infinitum.  And  it  is  true  that  we  can  never  reach  a  point 
where  the  question  "Why?"  can  no  longer  be  asked.  But 
we  can  reach  a  point  where  it  becomes  unmeaning,  and  at  this 
point  knowledge  reaches  the  highest  perfection  of  which,  as 
knowledge,  it  is  susceptible. 

The  ideal  which  we  should  then  have  reached  would  be 
one  in  which  we  realised  the  entire  universe  as  an  assembly 
of  spirits,  and  recognized  that  the  qualities  and  characteristics, 
which  gave  to  each  of  these  spirits  its  individuality,  did  not 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE    257 

lie  in  any  contingent  or  non-rational  peculiarity  in  the  indi- 
vidual himself,  but  were  simply  determined  by  his  relations 
to  all  other  individuals.  These  relations  between  individuals, 
again,  we  should  not  conceive  as  contingent  or  accidental,  so 
that  the  persons  connected  formed  a  mere  miscellaneous  crowd. 
We  should  rather  conceive  them  as  united  by  a  pattern  or 
design,  resembling  that  of  a  picture  or  organism,  so  that  every 
part  of  it  was  determined  by  every  other  part,  in  such  a 
manner  that  from  any  one  all  the  others  could,  with  sufficient 
insight,  be  deduced,  and  that  no  .change  could  be  made  in  any 
without  affecting  all.  This  complete  interdependence  is  only 
approximately  realised  in  the  unity  which  is  found  in  aesthetic 
or  organic  wholes,  but  in  the  Absolute  the  realisation  would 
be  perfect.  As  the  whole  nature  of  every  spirit  would  consist 
exclusively  in  the  expression  of  the  relations  of  the  Absolute, 
while  those  relations  would  form  a  whole,  in  which  each  part, 
and  the  whole  itself,  would  be  determined  by  each  part,  it 
follows  that  any  fact  in  the  universe  could  be  deduced  from 
any  other  fact,  or  from  the  nature  of  the  universe  as  a 
whole. 

269.  If  knowledge  reached  this  point,  the  only  question 
which  could  remain  unanswered  would  be  the  question,  "  Why 
is  the  universe  as  a  whole  what  it  is,  and  not  something  else?" 
And  this  question  could  not  be  answered.  We  must  not, 
however,  conclude  from  this  the  existence  of  any  want  of 
rationality  in  the  universe.  The  truth  is  that  the  question 
ought  never  to  have  been  asked,  for  it  is  the  application  of 
a  category,  which  has  only  meaning  within  the  universe,  to 
the  universe  as  a  whole.  Of  any  part  we  are  entitled  and 
bound  to  ask  "why,"  for,  by  the  very  fact  that  it  is  a  part, 
it  cannot  be  self-subsistent,  and  must  depend  on  other  things. 
But  when  we  come  to  an  all-embracing  totality,  then,  with 
the  possibility  of  finding  a  cause,  there  disappears  also  the 
necessity  of  finding  one.  Self-subsistence  is  not  in  itself  a 
contradictory  or  impossible  idea.  It  is  contradictory  if  applied 
to  anything  in  the  universe,  for  whatever  is  in  the  universe 
must  be  in  connection  with  other  things.  But  this  can  of 
course  be  no  reason  for  suspecting  a  fallacy  when  we  find 

MCT.  17 


258    THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

ourselves  obliged  to  apply  the  idea  to  something  which  has 
nothing  outside  it  with  which  it  could  stand  in  connection. 

To  put  the  matter  in  another  light,  we  must  consider  that 
the  necessity  of  finding  causes  and  reasons  for  phenomena 
depends  on  the  necessity  of  showing  why  they  have  assumed 
the  particular  form  which  actually  exists.  The  enquiry  is  thus 
due  to  the  possibility  of  things  happening  otherwise  than  as 
they  did,  which  possibility,  to  gain  certain  knowledge,  must 
be  excluded  by  assigning  definite  causes  for  one  event  rather 
than  the  others.  Now  every  possibility  must  rest  on  some 
actuality.  And  the  possibility  that  the  whole  universe  could 
be  different  would  have  no  such  actuality  to  rest  on,  since 
the  possibility  extends  to  all  reality.  There  would  be  nothing 
in  common  between  the  two  asserted  alternatives,  and  thus 
the  possibility  of  variation  would  be  unmeaning.  And  there- 
fore there  can  be  no  reason  to  assign  a  determining  cause. 

The  necessity  which  exists  for  all  knowledge  to  rest  on  the 
immediate  does  not,  then,  indicate  any  imperfection  which 
might  prove  a  bar  to  the  development  of  spirit.  For  we  have 
seen  that  the  impulse  which  causes  us  even  here  to  demand 
fresh  mediation  is  unjustified,  and,  indeed,  meaningless.  But 
we  shall  have  to  consider,  in  the  second  part  of  this  chapter, 
whether  the  possibility  of  making  even  the  unjustified  demand 
does  not  indicate  that  for  complete  harmony  we  must  go  on 
to  something  which  embraces  and  transcends  knowledge. 

270.  Let  us  now  pass  on  to  the  ideal  of  volition.  We 
must  in  the  first  place  exclude,  as  incompatible  with  such 
an  ideal,  all  volition  which  leads  to  action.  For  action  implies 
that  you  have  not  something  which  you  want,  or  that  you 
will  be  deprived  of  it  if  you  do  not  fight  for  it,  and  both  these 
ideas  are  fatal  to  the  fundamental  and  complete  harmony 
between  desire  and  environment  which  is  necessary  to  the 
perfect  development  of  spirit. 

Nor  can  virtue  have  a  place  in  our  ideal,  even  in  the  form 
of  aspiration.  Together  with  every  other  imperfection,  it  must 
be  left  outside  the  door  of  heaven.  For  virtue  implies  a  choice, 
and  choice  implies  either  uncertainty  or  conflict.  In  the  realised 
ideal  neither  of  these  could  exist.    We  should  desire  our  truest 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE    259 

and  deepest  well-being  with  absolute  necessity,  since  there 
would  be  nothing  to  deceive  and  tempt  us  away.  And  we  should 
find  the  whole  universe  conspiring  with  us  to  reahse  our  desire. 
The  good  would  be  i-pso  facto  the  real,  and  virtue  would  have 
been  transcended. 

The  ideal  of  volition  is  rather  the  experience  of  perfect 
harmony  between  ourselves  and  our  environment  which  ex- 
cludes alike  action  and  choice.  This  involves,  in  the  first 
place,  that  we  should  "have  come  to  a  clear  idea  as  to  what 
the  fundamental  demands  and  aspirations  of  our  nature  are. 
Till  we  have  done  this  we  cannot  expect  harmony.  All  other 
desires  will  be  in  themselves  inharmonious,  for,  driven  on  by 
the  inevitable  dialectic,  they  will  show  themselves  imperfect, 
transitory,  or  defective,  when  experienced  for  a  sufficiently 
long  time,  or  in  a  sufficiently  intense  degree.  And,  besides 
this,  the  very  fact  that  the  universe  is  fundamentally  of  the 
nature  of  spirit,  and  therefore  must  be  in  harmony  with  us 
when  we  have  fully  realised  our  own  natures,  proves  that  it 
cannot  be  permanently  in  harmony  with  us  as  long  as  our 
natures  remain  imperfect.  For  such  a  harmony  with  the 
imperfect  would  be  an  imperfection,  out  of  which  it  would 
be  forced  by  its  own  dialectic. 

And  this  harmony  must  extend  through  the  entire  universe. 
If  everything  (or  rather  everybody)  in  the  universe  is  not  in 
harmony  with  us  our  ends  cannot  be  completely  realised.  For 
the  whole  universe  is  connected  together,  and  every  part  of 
it  must  have  an  effect,  however  infinitesimal,  upon  every  other 
part.  Our  demands  must  be  reconciled  with,  and  reahsed  by, 
every  other  individual. 

And,  again,  we  cannot  completely  attain  our  own  ends 
unless  everyone  else  has  attained  his  own  also.  For,  as  was 
mentioned  in  the  last  paragraph,  we  cannot  attain  our  own 
ends  except  by  becoming  in  perfect  harmony  with  the  entire 
universe.  And  this  we  can  only  do  in  so  far  as  both  we  and 
it  have  become  completely  rational.  It  follows  that  for  the 
attainment  of  our  ends  it  would  be  necessary  for  the  entire 
universe  to  have  expHcitly  developed  the  rationahty  which 
is  its  fundamental  nature.    And  by  this  self-development  every 

17—2 


260    THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

other  individual,  as  well  as  ourselves,  would  have  attained  to 
the  perfection  of  volition.  Moreover,  looking  at  the  matter 
more  empirically,  we  may  observe  that  some  degree  of  sym- 
pathy seems  inherent  to  our  nature,  so  that  our  pleasure  in 
someone  else's  pain,  though  often  intense,  is  never  quite 
unmixed.  And  on  this  ground  also  our  complete  satisfaction 
must  involve  that  of  all  other  people. 

271.  We  have  now  determined  the  nature  of  perfected 
knowledge  and  volition,  as  far  as  the  formal  conditions  of 
perfection  will  allow  us  to  go.  What  is  the  concrete  and 
material  content  of  such  a  life  as  this?  I  believe  it  means 
one  thing,  and  one  thing  only — love.  I  do  not  mean  bene- 
volence, even  in  its  most  empassioned  form.  I  do  not  mean 
the  love  of  Truth,  or  Virtue,  or  Beauty,  or  anything  else  whose 
name  can  be  found  in  a  dictionary.  I  do  not  mean  sexual 
desire.  And  I  do  mean  passionate,  all-absorbing,  all-consuming 
love. 

For  let  us  consider.  We  should  find  ourselves  in  a  world 
composed  of  nothing  but  individuals  like  ourselves.  With 
these  individuals  we  should  have  been  brought  into  the  closest 
of  all  relations,  we  should  see  them,  each  of  them,  to  be  rational 
and  righteous.  And  we  should  know  that  in  and  through  these 
individuals  our  own  highest  aims  and  ends  were  realised. 
What  else  does  it  come  to  ?  To  know  another  person  thoroughly, 
to  know  that  he  conforms  to  my  highest  standards,  to  feel  that 
through  him  the  end  of  my  own  life  is  realised — is  this  any- 
thing but  love  ? 

Such  a  result  would  come  all  the  same,  I  think,  if  we  only 
looked  at  the  matter  from  the  point  of  view  of  satisfied  know- 
ledge, leaving  volition  out  of  account.  If  all  reahty  is  such  as 
would  appear  entirely  reasonable  to  us  if  we  knew  it  completely, 
if  it  is  all  of  the  nature  of  spirit,  so  that  we,  who  are  also  of 
that  nature,  should  always  find  harmony  in  it,  then  to  com- 
pletely know  a  person,  and  to  be  completely  known  by  him, 
must  surely  end  in  this  way.  No  doubt  knowledge  does 
not  always  have  that  result  in  every-day  life.  But  that  is 
incomplete  knowledge,  under  lower  categories  and  subject 
to  unremoved  contingencies,  which,  from  its  incompleteness. 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE    261 

must  leave  the  mind  unsatisfied.  Perfect  knowledge  would 
be  different.  How  much  greater  would  the  difference  be  if, 
besides  the  satisfaction  attendant  on  mere  knowledge,  we  had 
realised  that  it  was  through  the  people  round  us  that  the 
longings  ajid  desires  of  our  whole  nature  were  being  fulfilled. 

This  would,  as  it  seems  to  me,  be  the  only  meaning  and 
significance  of  perfected  spirit.  Even  if  knowledge  and  volition 
still  remained,  their  importance  would  consist  exclusively  in 
their  producing  this  result.  For  it  is  only  in  respect  of  the 
element  of  feeling  in  it  that  any  state  can  be  deemed  to  have 
intrinsic  value.  This  is  of  course  not  the  same  thing  as  saying 
that  we  only  act  for  our  own  greatest  happiness,  or  even  that 
our  own  greatest  happiness  is  our  only  rational  end.  I  do 
not  deny  the  possibility  of  disinterested  care  for  the  welfare 
of  others.  I  only  assert  that  the  welfare  of  any  person  depends 
upon  the  feeling  which  is  an  element  of  his  consciousness. 
Nor  do  I  assert  that  a  quantitative  maximum  of  pleasure  is 
the  Supreme  Good.  It  is  possible  that  there  may  be  qualita- 
tive differences  of  pleasure  which  might  make  a  comparatively 
unpleasant  state  more  truly  desirable  than  one  in  which  the 
pleasure  was  far  greater.  But  this  does  not  interfere  with  the 
fact  that  it  is  only  with  regard  to  its  element  of  feeling  that 
any  state  can  be  held  to  be  intrinsically  desirable. 

272.  Perfected  know^ledge  and  volition,  taken  in  connection 
with  the  consequent  feeling,  not  only  produce  personal  love, 
but,  as  it  seems  to  me,  produce  nothing  else.  There  are,  it 
is  true,  many  other  ways  in  which  knowledge  and  volition 
produce  pleasure.  There  are  the  pleasures  of  learning,  and 
of  the  contemplation  of  scientific  truth ;  there  are  the  pleasures 
of  action,  of  virtue,  and  of  gratified  desire.  But  these  all 
depend  on  the  imperfect  stages  of  development  in  which 
knowledge  and  volition  are  occupied  with  comparatively  ab- 
stract generalities.  Now  all  general  laws  are  abstractions 
from,  and  therefore  distortions  of,  the  concrete  reality,  which 
is  the  abstract  realised  in  the  particular.  When  we  fail  to 
detect  the  abstract  in  the  particular,  then,  no  doubt,  the 
abstract  has  a  value  of  its  own — is  as  high  or  higher  than 
the  mere  particular.     But  when  we  see  the  real  individual, 


I 
262    THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE       1 

in  whom  the  abstract  and  the  particular  are  joined,  we  lose 
all  interest  in  the  abstract  as  such.  Why  should  we  put  up 
with  an  inadequate  falsehood  when  we  can  get  the  adequate 
truth?  And  feeling  towards  an  individual  who  is  perfectly 
known  has  only  one  form. 

273.  But  what  right  have  we  to  talk  of  love  coming  as 
a  necessary  consequence  of  anything?  Is  it  not  the  most 
unreasoning  of  all  things,  choosing  for  itself,  often  in  direct 
opposition  to  what  would  seem  the  most  natural  course? 
I  should  explain  the  contradiction  as  follows.  Nothing  but 
perfection  could  really  deserve  love.  Hence,  when  it  comes 
in  this  imperfect  world,  it  only  comes  in  cases  in  which  one 
is  able  to  disregard  the  other  as  he  is  now — that  is,  as  he 
really  is  not — and  to  care  for  him  as  he  really  is — that  is,  as 
he  will  be.  Of  course  this  is  only  the  philosopher's  explanation 
of  the  matter.  To  the  unphilosophic  object  to  be  explained 
it  simply  takes  the  form  of  a  conviction  that  the  other  person, 
with  all  his  faults,  is  somehow  in  himself  infinitely  good — at 
any  rate,  infinitely  good  for  his  friend.  The  circumstances 
which  determine  in  what  cases  this  strange  dash  into  reality 
can  be  made  are  not  known  to  us.  And  so  love  is  unreasonable. 
But  only  because  reason  is  not  yet  worthy  of  it.  Reason 
cannot  reveal — though  in  philosophy  it  may  predict — the  truth 
which  alone  can  justify  love.  When  reason  is  perfected,  love 
will  consent  to  be  reasonable. 

274.  Fantastic  as  all  this  may  seem,  the  second  part  of  my 
subject,  on  which  I  must  now  enter,  will,  I  fear,  seem  much 
worse.  I  have  endeavoured  to  prove  that  all  perfect  life  would 
lead  up  to  and  culminate  in  love.  I  want  now  to  go  further, 
and  to  assert  that,  as  life  became  perfect,  all  other  elements 
would  actually  die  away — that  knowledge  and  volition  would 
disappear,  swallowed  up  in  a  higher  reality,  and  that  love  would 
reveal  itself,  not  only  as  the  highest  thing,  but  as  the  only 
thing,  in  the  universe. 

If  we  look  close  enough  we  shall  find,  I  think,  that  both 
knowledge  and  volition  postulate  a  perfection  to  which  they  can 
never  attain ;  that  consequently  if  we  take  them  as  ultimate 
realities  we  shall  be  plunged  into  contradictions,  and  that  the 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE    263 

only  way  to  account  for  them  at  all  is  to  view  them  as  moments 
or  aspects  of  a  higher  reality  which  realises  the  perfections  they 
postulate.  This  perfection  lies  in  the  production  of  a  complete 
harmony  between  the  subject  and  the  object,  by  the  combina 
tion  of  perfect  unity  between  them  with  perfect  discrimination 
of  the  one  from  the  other.  And  this,  as  I  shall  endeavour  to 
prove,  is  impossible  without  transcending  the  limits  of  these 
two  correlative  activities. 

275.  In  the  first  place,  is  it  possible  that  the  duality 
which  makes  them  two  activities,  rather  than  one,  can  be 
maintained  in  the  Absolute?  For,  if  it  cannot  be  maintained, 
then  knowledge  and  volition  would  both  be  merged  in  a  single 
form  of  spirit.  The  object  of  both  is  the  same — to  produce  the 
harmony  described  in  Hegel's  definition  of  the  Absolute  Idea. 
What  is  it  that  separates  them  from  one  another,  and  is  the 
separation  one  which  can  be  considered  as  ultimate  ? 

276.  The  most  obvious  suggestion  is  that  volition  leads 
directly  to  action,  while  knowledge  does  so  only  indirectly,  by 
affecting  volition.  If  however  we  look  more  closely  we  shall 
find  that  this  is  not  a  sufficient  distinction.  We  may  perhaps 
leave  out  of  account  the  fact  that  a  desire,  however  strong,  does 
not  provoke  us  to  action  if  it  is  for  something  which  we  know 
is  perfectly  impossible,  or  for  something  which  no  action  can 
effect.  No  action  is  produced  by  a  desire  that  two  and  two 
may  make  five,  or  by  a  desire  that  the  wind  may  blow  from  the 
west.  But  even  in  cases  where  the  process  of  development  is 
taking  place,  and  the  harmony  between  desire  and  reality  is 
being  gradually  brought  about,  it  is  by  no  means  always  the 
case  that  it  is  brought  about  by  action.  There  are  two  other 
alternatives.  It  may  be  brought  about  by  a  discovery  in  the 
field  of  knowledge,  which  reveals  a  harmony  which  had  pre- 
viously escaped  observation.  Discovery  is  itself,  certainly,  an 
action.  Rut  it  is  not  the  act  of  discovery  which  here  produces 
the  harmony,  but  the  truth  which  it  reveals,  and  the  truth  is 
not  an  action.  We  have  not  gained  the  harmony  because  we 
have  changed  the  environment,  but  because  we  have  under- 
stood it.  And  the  act  of  discovery  is  the  result  of  our  desire  to 
understand,  not  of  our  desire  for  the  result  discovered. 


264    THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

The  other  possible  means  of  reconciliation  is  by  the  desire 
changing  itself  into  conformity  with  the  environment,  either 
through  an  intellectual  conviction  that  the  previous  desire  was 
mistaken,  or  by  that  process  of  dialectic  development  inherent 
in  finite  desires. 

Let  us  suppose,  for  example,  that  a  desire  that  vindictive 
justice  should  exhibit  itself  in  the  constitution  of  the  universe 
finds  itself  in  conflict  with  the  fact,  known  by  empirical  observa- 
tion, that  the  wicked  often  prosper.  Some  degree  of  harmony 
between  desires  and  facts  may  be  obtained  in  this  case  by  means 
of  action  as  affecting  the  political  and  social  environment.  But 
this  alone  could  never  realise  the  demand.  We  have,  however, 
two  other  possible  methods  of  reconciliation.  Philosophy  or 
theology  may  assure  us  that  there  is  a  future  life,  and  that  in  it 
our  desires  will  be  fulfilled.  Or  our  notions  of  the  desirable  may 
develop  in  such  a  way  as  no  longer  to  require  that  the  universe 
should  exhibit  vindictive  justice.  In  either  case  we  should  have 
attained  to  harmony  without  action  following  as  a  consequence 
of  our  volition. 

277.  Or,  secondly,  it  may  be  suggested  that  the  distinction 
lies  in  the  activity  or  passivity  of  the  mind.  In  knowledge,  it 
might  be  said,  our  object  is  to  create  a  picture  in  our  minds, 
answering  to  the  reality  which  exists  outside  them,  and  based 
on  data  received  from  external  sources.  Since  the  test  of  the 
mental  picture  is  its  conformity  to  the  external  reality,  the 
mind  must  be  passive.  On  the  other  hand,  in  volition  the 
mind  supplies  an  ideal  by  means  of  which  we  measure  external 
reality.  If  the  reality  does  not  correspond  to  our  desires,  we 
condemn  it  as  unsatisfactory,  and,  if  the  thwarted  desires  belong 
to  our  moral  nature,  we  condemn  it  as  wrong.  Here,  it  might 
be  urged,  the  mind  is  in  a  position  of  activity. 

There  is  unquestionably  some  truth  in  this  view.  The 
greater  weight  is  certainly  laid,  in  knowledge  on  the  external 
object,  in  volition  on  the  consciousness  of  the  agent.  But  we 
must  seek  a  more  accurate  expression  of  it.  For  the  mind  is 
not  passive  in  knowledge,  nor  purely  active  in  volition.  In 
considering  the  last  argument  we  saw  that  the  harmony  may 
be  produced,  wholly  or  in  part,  by  the  alteration  of  the  desires 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE    265 

till  they  coincide  with  the  facts.  In  so  far  as  this  is  the  case, 
the  mind  is  in  a  more  or  less  passive  position,  and  is  altered  by 
external  facts,  whether  the  result  comes  from  arguments  drawn 
from  the  existence  of  those  facts,  or  by  reaction  from  the  contact 
with  them  in  actual  life. 

We  may  go  further,  and  say,  not  only  that  this  may  happen 
in  some  cases,  but  that  it  must  happen  in  all  cases  to  some 
extent.  For  otherwise  in  the  action  of  mind  on  the  environment 
we  should  have  left  no  place  for  any  reaction,  and  by  doing  so 
should  deny  the  reality  of  that  member  of  the  relation  which 
we  condemn  to  passivity.  But  if  the  as  yet  unharmonized 
environment  was  unreal,  as  compared  with  the  as  yet  unem- 
bodied  ideal,  the  process  would  cease  to  exist.  If  the  environment 
has  no  existence  our  demands  cannot  be  said  to  be  realised 
in  it.    If  it  has  real  existence,  it  must  react  on  our  demands. 

Nor,  again,  can  it  be  said  that  the  mind  is  purely  passive 
in  knowledge.  The  data  which  it  receives  from  outside  are 
subsumed  under  categories  which  belong  to  the  nature  of 
the  mind  itself,  and  the  completed  knowledge  is  very  different 
from  the  data  with  which  it  began.  Indeed  if  we  attempt  to 
consider  the  data  before  any  reaction  of  the  mind  has  altered 
them  we  find  that  they  cannot  enter  into  consciousness — that  is, 
they  do  not  exist. 

278.  Let  us  make  one  more  effort  to  find  a  ground  of 
distinction.  I  believe  that  we  may  succeed  Avith  the  following 
statement.  In  knowledge  we  accept  the  facts  as  valid  and 
condemn  our  ideas  if  they  do  not  agree  with  the  facts ;  in 
volition  we  accept  our  ideas  as  valid,  and  condemn  the  facts  if 
they  do  not  agree  with  our  ideas. 

Suppose  a  case  of  imperfect  harmony.  The  first  thing,  of 
course,  is  to  recognize  that  there  is  something  wrong  somewhere. 
But,  when  we  have  realised  this,  what  can  we  do?  Since  the 
two  sides,  the  facts  and  our  ideas,  are  not  in  harmony,  we  cannot 
accept  both  as  valid.  To  accept  neither  as  valid  would  be  im- 
possible— because  self-contradictory — scepticism  and  quietism. 
We  must  accept  one  and  reject  the  other.  Now  in  knowledge 
we  accept  the  facts  as  valid,  and  condemn  our  ideas,  in  so  far  as 
they  differ  from  the  facts,  as  mistaken.  In  volition,  on  the  other 


266    THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

hand,  we  accept  our  ideas  as  valid,  and  condemn  the  facts,  in  so 
far  as  they  differ  from  our  ideas,  as  wrong.  If,  for  example,  it 
should  appear  to  us  that  a  rational  and  righteous  universe  would 
involve  our  personal  immortality,  while  there  were  reasons  to 
believe  that  we  were  not  personally  immortal,  then  we  should 
have  to  take  up  a  double  position.  On  the  one  hand  we  should 
be  bound  to  admit  that  our  longing  for  immortality  would  not 
be  gratified,  however  intense  it  might  be.  On  the  other  hand 
we  should  be  bound  to  assert  that  the  universe  was  wrong  in 
not  granting  our  desires,  however  certain  it  was  that  they  would 
not  be  granted.  Of  course  this  assumes  that  every  effort  has  been 
made  to  produce  the  harmony.  We  are  not  entitled  to  condemn 
the  universe  as  evil  on  account  of  an  unfulfilled  desire,  until  we 
have  carefully  enquired  if  it  is  a  mere  caprice,  or  really  so  funda- 
mental a  part  of  our  nature  that  its  realisation  is  essential  to 
permanent  harmony.  And  we  are  not  bound  to  condemn  our 
ideas  as  untrue  because  the  facts  seem  against  them  at  first  sight. 

279.  I  am  far  from  wishing  to  assert  that  any  want  of 
harmony  really  exists.  Such  a  view  would  be  quite  contrary 
to  Hegel's  philosophy.  But  we  must  all  acknowledge  that  in  a 
great  number  of  particular  cases  we  are  quite  unable  to  see  hoiv 
the  harmony  exists,  although  on  philosophical  grounds  we  may 
be  certain  that  it  must  exist  somehow.  And,  besides,  even  in 
some  cases  where  we  may  intellectually  perceive  the  harmony, 
our  nature  may  not  be  so  under  the  control  of  our  reason,  as  to 
enable  us  to  feel  the  harmony,  if  it  happens  to  conflict  with  our 
passions.  In  all  these  cases  it  will  be  necessary  to  deal  with  an 
apparent  want  of  harmony,  and  in  all  these  cases  we  must  give 
the  facts  the  supremacy  in  the  sphere  of  knowledge  and  the 
ideas  the  supremacy  in  the  sphere  of  volition. 

One  of  our  most  imperative  duties  is  intellectual  humility — 
to  admit  the  truth  to  be  true,  however  unpleasant  or  unrighteous 
it  may  appear  to  us.  But,  correlative  to  this  duty,  there  is 
another  no  less  imperative — that  of  ethical  self-assertion.  If 
no  amount  of  "ought"  can  produce  the  slightest  "is,"  it  is  no 
less  true  that  no  amount  of  "is"  can  produce  the  slightest 
"ought."  It  is  of  the  very  essence  of  human  will,  and  of  that 
effort  to  find  the  fundamentally  desirable  which  we  call  morality. 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE    267 

that  it  claims  the  right  to  judge  the  whole  universe.  This  is 
the  categorical  imperative  of  Kant.  We  find  it  again  in  Mill's 
preference  of  hell  to  worship  of  an  unjust  deity.  Nor  is  it  only 
in  the  interests  of  virtue  as  such  that  the  will  is  categorical. 
Pleasure  is  no  more  to  be  treated  lightly  than  virtue.  If  all 
the  powers  of  the  universe  united  to  give  me  one  second's  un- 
necessary toothache,  I  should  not  only  be  entitled,  but  bound, 
to  condemn  them.  We  have  no  more  right  to  be  servile  than 
to  be  arrogant.  And  while  our  desires  must  serve  in  the  king- 
dom of  the  true,  they  rule  in  the  kingdom  of  the  good. 

We  must  note  in  passing  that  we  are  quite  entitled  to  argue 
that  a  thing  is  because  it  ought  to  be,  or  ought  to  be  because  it 
is,  if  we  have  once  satisfied  ourselves  that  the  harmony  does 
exist,  and  that  the  universe  is  essentially  rational  and  righteous. 
To  those  who  believe,  for  example,  in  a  benevolent  God,  it  is 
perfectly  competent  to  argue  that  we  must  be  immortal  because 
the  absence  of  immortality  would  make  life  a  ghastly  farce,  or 
that  toothache  must  be  good  because  God  sends  it.  It  is  only 
when,  or  in  as  far  as,  the  harmony  has  not  yet  been  established, 
that  such  an  argument  gives  to  God  the  things  which  are 
Caesar's,  and  to  Caesar  the  things  which  are  God's,  to  the 
embarrassment  of  both  sides. 

280.  If  we  have  now  succeeded  in  finding  the  distinction 
between  knowledge  and  volition,  we  must  conclude  that  it  is 
one  which  can  have  no  place  in  the  absolute  perfection.  For 
we  have  seen  that  the  distinction  turns  upon  the  side  of  the 
opposition  which  shall  give  way,  when  there  is  opposition,  and 
not  harmony,  between  the  subject  and  the  object.  In  an 
Absolute  there  can  be  no  opposition,  for  there  can  be  no  want 
of  harmony,  as  the  Absolute  is,  by  its  definition,  the  harmony 
made  perfect.  And  not  only  can  there  be  no  want  of  harmony, 
but  there  can  be  no  possibility  that  the  harmony  should  ever 
become  wanting.  Everything  must  have  a  cause,  and  if  it  were 
possible  that  the  harmony  which  exists  at  a  given  time  should 
subsequently  be  broken,  a  cause  must  co-exist  with  the  harmony 
capable  of  destroying  it.  When  the  harmony  is  universal,  the 
cause  would  have  to  exist  within  it.  Now  when  we  speak  of 
things   which   are   only   harmonious    with   regard   to    certain 


268    THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

relations,  or  in  a  certain  degree,  we  can  speak  of  a  harmony 
which  carries  within  it  the  seeds  of  its  own  dissolution.  Such 
is  the  life  of  an  organism,  which  necessarily  leads  to  death,  or 
the  system  of  a  sun  and  planets,  which  collapses  as  it  loses  its 
energy.  But  when  we  come  to  consider  a  harmony  which 
pervades  objects  in  all  their  relations,  and  which  is  absolutely 
perfect,  anything  which  could  produce  a  disturbance  in  it  would 
be  itself  a  disturbance,  and  is  excluded  by  the  hypothesis.  This 
will  be  seen  more  clearly  if  we  remember  that  the  harmony 
is  one  of  conscious  spirit.  The  consciousness  must  be  all- 
embracing,  and  therefore  the  cause  of  the  possible  future 
disturbance  must  be  recognized  for  what  it  is.  And  the  possi- 
bility of  such  a  disturbance  must  produce  at  once  some  degree 
of  doubt,  fear,  or  anxiety,  which  would,  by  itself  and  at  once, 
be  fatal  to  harmony. 

It  follows  that,  since  not  even  the  possibility  of  disturbance 
can  enter  into  the  Absolute,  the  distinction  between  knowledge 
and  volition,  depending  as  it  does  entirely  on  the  course  pursued- 
when  such  a  disturbance  exists,  becomes,  not  only  irrelevant, 
but  absolutely  unmeaning.  And  in  that  case  the  life  of  Spirit, 
when  the  Absolute  has  been  attained,  will  consist  in  the  harmony 
which  is  the  essence  of  both  knowledge  and  volition,  but  will 
have  lost  all  those  characteristics  which  differentiate  them  from 
one  another,  and  give  them  their  specific  character. 

281.  Before  passing  on  to  further  arguments,  we  must 
consider  an  objection  which  may  be  raised  to  what  has  been 
already  said.  This  is  that  no  trace  of  the  asserted  union  of 
knowledge  and  volition  is  to  be  found  in  our  experience.  We 
often  find,  in  some  particular  matter,  a  harmony  which  is,  at 
any  rate,  so  far  complete  that  no  want  of  it  is  visible,  in 
which  the  self  and  the  environment  show  no  perceptible 
discordance.  And  yet  knowledge  and  volition,  though  in 
agreement,  do  not  show  the  least  sign  of  losing  their  distinct- 
ness. On  the  one  hand  we  assert  that  a  given  content  is  real, 
and  on  the  other  that  it  is  desirable.  But  the  difference  of 
meaning  between  the  predicates  "true"  and  "good"  is  as  great 
as  ever. 

But  no  harmony  to  which  we  can  attain  in  the  middle  of 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE    269 

a  life  otherwise  inharmonious  can  ever  be  perfect,  even  over  a 
limited  extent.  For  the  universal  reciprocity  which  must  exist 
between  all  things  in  the  same  universe  would  prevent  anything 
from  becoming  perfect,  until  everything  had  done  so.  And 
a  harmony  between  two  imperfections  could  never  be  complete, 
since  the  imperfect  remains  subject  to  the  dialectic,  and  is 
therefore  transitory.  Even  supposing,  however,  that  such  a 
limited  harmony  could  be  perfect,  it  could  never  exclude  the 
possibiUty  of  disturbance.  The  possibility  was  excluded  in  the 
case  of  a  universal  harmony,  because  the  ground  of  disturbance 
could  not  exist  within  the  harmony,  and  there  was  nowhere 
else  for  it  to  exist.  But  here  such  a  ground  might  always  be 
found  outside.  And  while  there  is  any  meaning  in  even  the 
possibility  of  a  discrepancy  between  our  ideas  and  the  facts, 
there  is  no  reason  to  expect  the  separation  of  knowledge  and 
volition  to  cease. 

282.  Knowledge  and  volition,  then,  cannot  remain  separate 
in  the  Absolute,  and  therefore  cannot  remain  themselves.  Into 
what  shall  they  be  transformed?  The  only  remaining  element 
of  consciousness  is  feeling,  that  is,  pleasure  and  pain.  This, 
however,  will  not  serve  our  purpose.  It  has  nothing  to  do  with 
objects  at  all,  but  is  a  pure  self -reference  of  the  subject.  And 
this  fact,  while  making  feeling  in  some  ways  the  most  intimate 
and  personal  part  of  our  lives,  prevents  it  from  ever  being  self- 
subsistent,  or  filling  consciousness  by  itself.  For  our  self- 
consciousness  only  develops  by  bringing  itself  into  relation  with 
its  not-self.  The  definition  of  the  Absolute  Idea  shows  that 
the  appreciation  of  an  object  is  necessary  to  spirit.  Feeling 
therefore  is  only  an  element  in  states  of  consciousness,  not  a 
state  by  itself.  We  are  conscious  of  relations  to  an  object,  and 
in  this  consciousness  we  see  an  element  of  pleasure  or  pain. 
But  pleasure  or  pain  by  themselves  can  never  make  the  content 
of  our  mind. 

The  one  alternative  left  is  emotion.  For  our  present 
purpose,  we  may  perhaps  define  emotion  as  a  state  of  con- 
sciousness tinged  with  feeling,  or  rather,  since  feeling  is  never 
quite  absent,  a  state  of  consciousness,  in  so  far  as  it  is  tinged 
with  feeling.   Here  we  have  all  three  elements  of  consciousness. 


270    THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

We  are  aware  of  the  existence  of  an  object;  since  we  are 
brought  into  relation  with  it,  we  recognize  it  as  harmonising 
more  or  less  with  our  desires ;  and  we  are  conscious  of  pleasure 
or  pain,  consequent  on  the  greater  or  less  extent  to  which 
knowledge  and  volition  have  succeeded  in  establishing  a 
harmony.  This  state  of  mind  may  be  a  mere  aggregate  of 
three  independent  activities.  In  that  case  it  will  be  useless  for 
us.  But  it  may  turn  out  to  be  the  concrete  unity  from  which 
the  three  activities  gained  their  apparent  independence  by 
illegitimate  abstraction.  If  so,  it  may  not  impossibly  be  the 
synthesis  for  which  we  are  searching. 

283.  It  is  clear  that  no  emotion  can  be  the  ultimate  form 
of  spirit,  unless  it  regards  all  objects  as  individual  spirits.  For 
the  dialectic  shows  us  that,  till  we  regard  them  thus,  we  do  not 
regard  them  rightly.  And  the  dialectic  shows  us  also,  that  we 
do  not  regard  them  rightly  till  we  know  them  to  be  in  complete 
harmony  with  ourselves,  and  with  one  another.  To  regard  all 
that  we  find  round  us  as  persons,  to  feel  that  their  existence  is 
completely  rational,  and  that  through  it  our  own  nature  is 
realised,  to  experience  unalloyed  pleasure  in  our  relations  to 
them — this  is  a  description  to  which  only  one  emotion  answers. 
We  saw  in  the  first  part  of  this  chapter  that  the  only  value 
and  interest  of  knowledge  and  volition,  when  pushed  as  far  as 
they  would  go,  lay  in  love.  Here  we  go  a  step  further.  If 
anything  in  our  present  lives  can  resolve  the  contradictions 
inherent  in  knowledge  and  volition,  and  exhibit  the  truth  which 
lies  concealed  in  them,  it  must  be  love. 

284.  If  this  is  to  take  place,  love  must  transcend  the 
opposition  between  knowledge  and  volition  as  to  the  side  of 
the  relation  which  is  to  be  considered  valid  in  case  of  dis- 
crepancy. Neither  side  in  the  Absolute  must  attain  any 
pre-eminence  over  the  other,  since  such  pre-eminence  has  only 
meaning  with  regard  to  the  possibility  of  imperfection. 

Neither  side  has  the  pre-eminence  in  love.  It  is  not 
essential  to  it  that  the  subject  shall  be  brought  into  harmony 
with  the  object,  as  in  knowledge,  nor  that  the  object  shall 
be  brought  into  harmony  with  the  subject,  as  in  volition. 
It  is   sufficient   that  the   two   terms   should   he  in   harmony. 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE    271 

The  subject  refuses  here  to  be  forced  into  the  abstract  position 
of  either  slave  or  master.  To  conceive  the  relation  as  de- 
pendent on  the  conformity  of  the  subject  to  the  object  would 
ignore  the  fact  that  the  subject  has  an  ideal  which  possesses 
its  rights  even  if  nothing  corresponds  to  it  in  reality.  To 
conceive  the  relation,  on  the  other  hand,  as  dependent  on  the 
conformity  of  the  object  to  the  subject,  would  be  to  forget 
that  the  emotion  directs  itself  towards  persons  and  not  towards 
their  relations  with  us.  When,  as  in  volition,  the  harmony 
results  from  the  conformity  of  the  object  to  the  subject,  any 
interest  in  the  object  as  independent  can  only  exist  in  so  far  as 
it  realises  the  end  of  the  subject,  and  is  so  subordinate.  But 
here  our  interest  in  the  object  is  not  dependent  on  our  interest 
in  the  subject.  It  is  identical  with  it.  We  may  as  well  be  said 
to  value  ourselves  because  of  our  relation  to  the  object,  as  the 
object  because  of  its  relation  to  ourselves. 

This  complete  equilibrium  between  subject  and  object  is 
the  reason  why  love  cannot  be  conceived  as  a  duty  on  either 
side.  It  is  not  our  duty  to  love  others.  (I  am  using  love  here 
in  the  sense  in  which  it  is  used  in  every-day  life,  which  was 
also  Hegel's  use  of  it^.)  It  is  not  the  duty  of  others  to  be 
loveable  by  us.  In  knowledge  and  volition,  where  one  side 
was  to  blame  for  any  want  of  harmony,  there  was  a  meaning 
in  saying  that  the  harmony  ought  to  be  brought  about.  But 
here,  where  the  sides  have  equal  rights,  where  neither  is  bound 
to  give  way,  no  such  judgment  can  be  passed.  We  can  only 
say  that  the  absence  of  the  harmony  proves  the  universe  to 
be  still  imperfect. 

And,  as  this  harmony  subordinates  neither  side  to  the 
other,  it  is  so  far  quahfied  to  express  the  Absolute  completely. 
It  needs  for  its  definition  no  reference  to  actual  or  possible 
defects.    It  is  self-balanced,  and  can  be  self-subsistent. 

285.  I  now  proceed  to  a  second  line  of  argument  which 
leads  to  the  same  conclusion.  Both  knowledge  and  volition,  I 
maintain,  postulate  an  ideal  which  they  can  never  reach,  while 
they  remain  knowledge  and  vohtion.    If  this  can  be  shown,  it 

1  Cp.  Sections  219,  220. 


272    THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

will  follow  that  neither  knowledge  nor  volition,  as  such,  is 
compatible  with  the  perfection  of  reality,  but  that,  in  that 
perfection,  they  will  be  transcended  by  some  other  state,  which 
will  realise  the  ideal  of  harmony  which  they  can  only  demand. 

286.  It  will  be  remembered  that  in  chapter  ii  we  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  our  selves  were  fundamental  differ- 
entiations of  the  Absolute  because  no  other  theory  seemed 
compatible  with  the  fact  that  a  conscious  self  was  a  part  which 
contained  the  whole  of  which  it  was  part.  In  other  words,  the 
self  contains  much  that  is  not-self.  Indeed,  with  the  exception 
of  the  abstraction  of  the  pure  I,  all  the  content  of  the  self  is 
not-self. 

If  we  look  at  knowledge  and  volition,  we  see  clearly  that 
the  element  of  the  not-self  is  essential  to  them.  To  know 
implies  that  there  is  something  known,  distinct  from  the 
knowledge  of  it.  To  acquiesce  implies  that  there  is  something 
in  which  we  acquiesce,  which  is  distinct  from  our  acquiescence 
in  it.  Without  the  not-self,  knowledge  and  voUtion  would  be 
impossible.  But,  with  the  not-self,  can  knowledge  and  volition 
ever  be  perfect  ? 

I  do  not  think  that  they  can  ever  be  perfect,  because  they 
are  incapable  of  harmonising  the  abstract  element  of  not-self 
which,  as  we  have  seen,  must  always  be  found  in  their  content. 
All  the  rest  of  the  content  of  experience,  no  doubt,  is  capable 
of  being  harmonised  by  knowledge  and  volition.  But  what,  as 
it  seems  to  me,  is  impossible  to  harmonise  is  the  characteristic 
of  experience  which  makes  it  not-self— which  makes  it  some- 
thing existing  immediately,  and  in  its  own  right,  not  merely  as 
part  of  the  content  of  the  knowing  self. 

This  is,  of  course,  only  an  abstraction.  The  pure  not-self, 
like  the  pure  self,  cannot  exist  independently.  It  is  a  mere 
nonentity  if  it  is  separated  from  the  other  elements  of  ex- 
perience— those  which  make  the  content  of  the  not-self.  But 
though,  like  the  pure  self,  it  is  an  abstraction,  it  is,  like  the 
pure  self,  an  indispensable  abstraction.  Without  it  our  ex- 
perience would  not  be  not-self  as  well  as  self.  And,  if  the 
experience  was  not  as  truly  not-self  as  self,  it  could  not,  we 
have  seen,  be  our  experience  at  all. 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE    273 

287.  What  results  follow  from  this  element  of  the  not-self  ( 
Let  us  first  consider  what  happens  in  the  case  of  knowledge, 
postponing  volition.  The  whole  content  of  knowledge  is 
permeated  by  an  essential  element  which  has  only  one 
characteristic— opposition  to  the  self.  It  necessarily  follows 
that  a  certain  opposition  seems  to  exist  between  the  knowing 
self  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  whole  content  of  knowledge  on 
the  other. 

But  this  opposition  involves  knowledge  in  a  contradiction. 
For  it  is  impossible  to  take  them  as  really  opposed.  The 
knowing  self  is  a  mere  abstraction  without  the  content  of 
knowledge,  and  the  content  of  knowledge  would  not  be  know- 
ledge at  all  without  the  knowing  self.  And  yet,  as  was  said 
above,  it  is  impossible  to  get  rid  of  the  view  that  they  are 
opposed.  For  the  element  of  the  abstract  not-self,  which  is 
found  in  all  the  content  of  knowledge,  is  the  direct  contrary 
of  the  pure  self. 

288.  It  is  to  be  expected  that  this  contradiction  will  cause 
the  mind,  in  the  pursuit  of  knowledge,  to  encounter  a  difficulty 
which  at  the  same  time  it  sees  to  be  unmeaning  and  cannot 
avoid.  And  this  is  what  does  happen.  We  have  seen  above ^  that 
when  knowledge  should  have  reached  the  greatest  perfection  of 
which  it  is  capable,  there  would  still  remain  one  question 
unanswered.  Why  is  the  whole  universe  what  it  is,  and  not 
something  else?  We  saw  also  that  this  question  was  illegiti- 
mate, as  the  possibility  on  which  it  rested  was  unmeaning. 
For  a  possibility  that  the  whole  universe  should  be  different 
from  what  it  is  would  have  no  common  ground  with  actuality, 
and  is  not  a  possibility  at  all.  And  yet  this  unmeaning  doubt 
haunts  all  knowledge,  and  cannot  be  extirpated. 

We  are  now  able  to  see  why  this  should  be  the  case.  The 
existence  of  the  element  of  the  not-self  prevents  a  complete 
harmony  between  the  self  and  the  content  of  knowledge.  The 
knowing  self  appears  to  stand  on  one  side  and  the  known 
universe  on  the  other.  And  when  the  knowing  self  thus 
appears  to  be  in  a  position  of  independence,  there  arises  the 
delusion  that  in  that  self  would  be  found  an  independent  fixed 

1  Section  269. 

MCT.  18 


274    THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

point  which  would  be  the  same,  even  if  the  whole  known 
universe  were  different.  And  then  the  possibility  of  a  difierent 
known  universe  appears  to  be  a  real  one.  And,  since  no  reason 
can,  of  course,  be  given  why  the  universe  is  what  it  is,  there 
appears  to  be  a  contingent  and  irrational  element  in  reality. 

We  have  seen  that  this  is  not  a  real  possibility.  And  now 
we  have  another  proof  of  its  unreality.  For  the  delusion  that  it 
is  real  is  caused  by  the  persistence  of  thought  in  considering  its 
natural  condition — the  existence  of  the  not-self — as  its  natural 
enemy.  The  existence  of  such  a  miscalled  possibility,  therefore, 
is  no  argument  against  the  rationality  of  the  universe.  But  it 
does  tell  against  the  adequacy  of  knowledge  as  an  expression  of 
the  universe.  By  finding  a  flaw  in  perfection,  where  no  flaw 
exists,  knowledge  pronounces  its  own  condemnation.  If  the 
possibility  is  unmeaning,  knowledge  is  imperfect  in  being 
compelled  to  regard  it  as  a  possibility. 

289.  It  seems  at  first  sight  absurd  to  talk  of  knowledge  as 
inadequate.  If  it  were  so,  how  could  we  know  it  to  be  so? 
What  right  have  we  to  condemn  it  as  imperfect,  when  no  one 
but  the  culprit  can  be  the  judge?  This  is,  no  doubt,  so  far 
true,  thiat  if  knowledge  did  not  show  us  its  own  ideal,  we  could 
never  know  that  it  did  not  realise  it.  But  there  is  a  great 
difference  between  indicating  an  ideal  and  realising  it.  It  is 
possible — and  I  have  endeavoured  to  show  that  it  is  the  fact^ — 
that  knowledge  can  do  the  one  and  not  the  other.  When  we 
ask  about  the  abstract  conditions  of  reality,  knowledge  is  able 
to  demonstrate  that  harmony  must  exist,  and  that  the  element 
of  the  not-self  is  compatible  with  it,  and  essential  to  it.  But 
when  it  is  asked  to  show  in  detail  how  the  harmony  exists, 
which  it  has  shown  must  exist,  it  is  unable  to  do  so.  There- 
is  here  no  contradiction  in  our  estimate  of  reason,  but  there 
is  a  contradiction  in  reason,  which  prevents  us  from  regarding  it 
as  ultimate,  and  which  forces  us  to  look  for  some  higher  stage, 
where  the  contradiction  may  disappear. 

290.  An  analogous  defect  occurs,  from  the  same  cause,  in 
volition.  The  special  characteristic  of  volition  is,  as  we  have 
seen,  that  it  demands  that  the  world  shall  conform  to  the  ideals 
laid  down  by  the  individual.    Volition,  that  is  to  say,  demands 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE    275 

that  the  content  of  experience  shall  be  the  means  to  the  indi- 
vidual's end.    Unless  this  is  so,  volition  cannot  be  perfect. 

The  assertion  that  perfect  satisfaction  requires  us  to  consider 
everything  else  as  a  means  to  our  own  end  may  be  doubted.  Is 
there  not  such  a  thing  as  unselfish  action  ?  And  in  that  highest 
content  of  satisfaction  which  we  call  moral  good,  is  it  not  laid 
down  by  high  authority  that  the  fundamental  law  is  to  treat 
other  individuals  as  ends  and  not  as  means  ? 

It  is  undoubtedly  true  that  our  satisfaction  need  not  be 
selfish.  But  it  must  be  self-regarding.  Many  of  our  desires 
are  not  for  our  own  pleasure, — such  as  the  desire  to  win  a  game, 
or  to  eat  when  we  are  hungry.  But  these  are  still  desires  for 
our  own  good^.  If  the  result  did  not  appear  to  us  to  be  one 
which  would  be  desirable  for  us,  we  should  not  desire  it.  Put 
in  this  way,  indeed,  the  fact  that  volition  and  its  satisfaction  are 
self-centred  appears  almost  a  truism.  It  is  possible,  again,  that 
a  sense  of  duty  or  a  feeling  of  benevolence  may  determine  us 
to  unselfish  action — to  action  painful  to  ourselves,  which,  apart 
from  those  feelings,  we  could  not  regard  as  our  good.  But  such 
action  implies  that  we  do  regard  virtue,  or  the  happiness  of 
others,  as  our  highest  good.  Even  if  we  take  Mill's  extreme 
case  of  going  to  hell,  we  must  conceive  that  the  following 
of  virtue  as  long  as  possible,  although  the  eventual  result 
was  eternal  misery  and  degradation,  presented  itself  to  him 
as  his  highest  good.  Self-sacrifice,  strictly  speaking,  is  im- 
possible. We  can  sacrifice  the  lower  parts  of  our  nature. 
But  if  we  were  not  actuated  by  some  part  of  our  nature,  the 
action  would  cease  to  be  ours.  It  would  fall  into  the  same 
class  as  the  actions  of  lunacy,  of  hypnotism,  of  unconscious 
habit.  The  will  is  ours,  and  the  motive  which  determines  will 
must  be  a  motive  which  has  power  for  us.  In  other  words  our 
volition  is  always  directed  towards  our  own  good,  and  has  always 
ourselves  for  its  end. 

And  this  is  not  interfered  with  by  the  possibility  and  the 
obligation,  which  unquestionably  exist,  of  regarding  other  indi- 
viduals as  ends.     We  may  do  this  with  the  most  absolute 
sincerity.    But  if  we  are  asked  why  we  do  it,  we  do  not  find 
^  Note  to  Second  Edition.     I  now  think  that  this  is  not  correct. 

18—2 


276    THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

it  an  ultimate  necessity.  We  insert  another  term.  We  may 
perhaps  ascribe  our  conduct  to  a  sense  of  sympathy  with  others. 
In  this  case  the  reference  to  self  is  obvious.  Or,  taking  a  more 
objective  position,  we  may  say  that  we  do  it  because  it  is  right. 
Now  the  obligation  of  virtue  is  admitted  by  all  schools  to  be 
internal.  This  is  maintained  alike  by  those  who  imagine  it  to 
be  an  empirical  growth,  and  by  those  who  suppose  it  eternal 
and  fundamental  to  spirit.  That  virtue  must  be  followed  for 
its  own  sake  is  only  another  way  of  saying  that  we  conceive 
virtue  to  be  our  highest  good.  Kant  made  the  treatment  of 
individuals  as  ends  the  primary  law  of  morals.  But  the  existence 
of  morals  depended  on  the  Categorical  Imperative.  And  the 
obligation  of  this  on  the  moral  agent — his  recognition  of  it  as 
binding — was  equivalent  to  an  assertion  that  he  adopted  it. 
The  adoption  must  not  be  conceived  as  optional,  or  morality 
would  become  capricious ;  but  it  must  be  conceived  as  seK- 
realisation,  or  it  would  be  unmeaning  to  speak  of  the  agent, 
or  his  motive,  as  virtuous. 

291.  Now  the  element  of  the  not-self  prevents  volition 
from  completely  realising  its  ideal.  For  the  whole  significance 
of  that  element  is  that  the  experience  into  which  it  enters 
is  not  dependent  on  the  self.  (Not  dependent  must  not  be 
taken  here  as  equivalent  to  independent.  The  true  relation 
of  the  self  and  the  not-self  is  one  of  reciprocal  connection. 
And  so  it  would  be  misleading,  according  to  the  common  use 
of  words,  to  say  either  that  they  were  independent,  or  that 
either  was  dependent  on  the  other.)  It  is  not  a  mere  means 
to  the  end  of  the  self,  it  has  its  own  existence,  its  own  end. 

292.  The  end  of  the  self  is  not  therefore,  as  such,  supreme 
in  the  universe.  Even  if  the  universe  is  such  as  perfectly 
realises  the  self's  end,  it  does  not  do  so  because  its  purpose 
is  to  realise  the  self's  end,  but  because  its  own  end  and  the 
self's  are  the  same.  And  this  throws  an  appearance  of  con- 
tingency and  sufferance  over  the  satisfaction  of  the  self  which 
prevents  it  from  being  quite  perfect. 

As  with  the  corresponding  defect  in  knowledge,  there  is 
only  an  appearance  of  contingency.  For  the  self  and  not-self 
are  not  isolated  and  independent.    They  are  parts  of  the  same 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE    277 

universe,  and  the  nature  of  each  of  them  is  to  embody  the 
unity  of  which  they  are  both  parts.  Thus  the  relation  of  each 
to  the  other  is  not  external  and  accidental,  but  of  the  very 
essence  of  both.  And  thus,  again,  the  fact  that  the  not-self 
realises  the  ends  of  the  self  is  not  contingent,  but  necessary 
to  the  very  essence  of  the  not-self. 

The  condemnation  therefore  does  not  fall  on  the  nature 
of  reality,  but  on  volition,  which  is  unable  to  realise  the  com- 
plete harmony,  because  it  persists  in  regarding  as  a  defect 
what  is  no  defect.  It  is  unable  to  realise  the  complete  unity 
of  the  self  with  the  not-self,  and,  since  the  not-self  is  not  a 
mere  means  to  the  self,  it  can  never  get  rid  of  the  view  that 
it  is  only  accidentally  a  means,  and  so  an  imperfect  means. 
Like  knowledge,  volition  regards  its  essential  condition — the 
existence  of  a  not-self — as  an  imperfection.  And  therefore 
it  can  never  realise  its  ideal. 

293.  To  sum  up.  If  this  analysis  has  been  correct,  it 
will  prove  that  neither  knowledge  nor  volition  can  completely 
express  the  harmony  of  spirit,  since  their  existence  implies 
that  spirit  is  in  relation  with  a  not-self,  while  their  perfection 
would  imply  that  they  were  not.  At  the  same  time  the 
dialectic  assures  us  that  complete  harmony  must  exist,  since 
it  is  implied  in  the  existence  of  anything  at  all.  We  must 
therefore  look  elsewhere  to  find  the  complete  expression  of  the 
harmony,  which  is  the  ultimate  form  of  spirit. 

The  trouble  has  arisen  from  the  fact  that  the  self  is  unable, 
in  knowledge  and  volition,  to  regard  the  element  of  the  not-self 
except  as  something  external  and  alien.  I  do  not  mean  that 
everything  which  is  not-self  appears  entirely  external  and 
ahen.  If  that  were  the  case  there  could  be  no  harmony  at 
all — and  consequently  no  knowledge  or  volition — since  all  the 
content  of  experience,  except  the  abstract  pure  self,  comes 
under  the  not-self.  But  I  mean  that  the  characteristic  which 
experience  possesses  of  being  not-self — its  "not-selfness,"  if  the 
barbarism  is  permissible, — will  always  remain  as  an  external 
and  alien  element. 

If  v/e  are  to  discover  the  state  of  spirit  in  which  the 
harmony  could  be  perfect,   we  must  find  one  in  which  the 


278    THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

element  of  not-self  does  not  give  an  aspect  of  externality 
and  alienation  to  the  content  of  experience.  In  other  words 
we  shall  have  to  find  a  state  in  which  we  regard  the  not-self 
in  the  same  way  as  we  regard  the  self. 

294.  Although  we  find  it  convenient  to  define  the  not-self 
by  its  negative  relation  to  the  self,  it  is  not  entirely  negative, 
for  then  it  would  not  be  real.  It  must  have  some  positive 
nature.  It  is,  of  course,  a  differentiation  of  the  Absolute. 
Now  we  saw  reason,  in  chapter  ii,  to  believe  that  the  only 
fundamental  difEerentiations  of  the  Absolute  were  finite  selves. 
That,  therefore,  of  which  any  self  is  conscious  as  its  not-self, 
is,  from  its  own  point  of  view,  another  self.  And  that  which 
appears  to  the  observing  self  as  the  element  of  not-selfness 
in  its  object,  will,  from  the  object's  own  point  of  view,  be 
the  element  of  selfness. 

We  can  now  restate  our  problem.  Can  we  find  any  state 
of  spirit  in  which  A  regards  B  in  the  same  way  as  A  regards 
himself  ? 

295.  Now  I  submit  that,  when  A  loves  B,  he  is  concerned 
with  5  as  a  person,  and  not  merely  with  the  results  of  B  on  A, 
and  that  therefore  he  does  look  on  B  as  B  would  look  on 
himself.  The  interest  that  I  feel  in  my  own  life  is  not  due 
to  its  having  such  and  such  qualities.  I  am  interested  in  it 
because  it  is  myself,  whatever  qualities  it  may  have.  I  am 
not,  of  course,  interested  in  myself  apart  from  all  quahties, 
which  would  be  an  unreal  abstraction.  But  it  is  the  self 
which  gives  the  interest  to  the  quahties,  and  not  the  reverse. 
With  the  object  of  knowledge  or  vohtion  on  the  other  hand 
our  interest  is  in  the  qualities  which  it  may  possess,  and  we 
are  only  concerned  in  the  object's  existence  for  itself  because 
without  it  the  quahties  could  not  exist.  But  in  the  harmony 
which  we  are  now  considering,  we  do  not,  when  it  has  been 
once  reached,  feel  that  the  person  is  dear  to  us  on  account 
of  his  qualities,  but  rather  that  our  attitude  towards  his 
qualities  is  determined  by  the  fact  that  they  belong  to  him. 

296.  In  support  of  this  we  may  notice,  in  the  first  place, 
that  love  is  not  necessarily  proportioned  to  the  dignity  or 
adequacy   of  the  determining  motive.     This  is  otherwise  in 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE    279 

knowledge  and  volition.  In  volition,  for  example,  the  depth 
of  our  satisfaction  ought  to  be  proportioned  to  the  completeness 
with  which  the  environment  harmonises  with  our  ideals,  and 
to  the  adequacy  with  which  our  present  ideals  express  our 
fundamental  nature.  If  it  is  greater  than  these  would  justify 
it  is  unwarranted  and  illegitimate.  But  a  trivial  cause  may 
determine  the  direction  of  very  deep  emotion.  To  be  born 
in  the  same  family,  or  to  be  brought  up  in  the  same  house, 
may  determine  it.  It  may  be  determined  by  physical  beauty, 
or  by  purely  sensual  desire.  Or  we  may  be,  as  we  often  are, 
unable  to  assign  any  determining  cause  at  all.  And  yet  the 
emotion  produced  may  be  indefinitely  intense  and  elevated. 
This  would  seem  to  suggest  that  the  emotion  is  directed  to 
the  person,  not  to  his  qualities,  and  that  the  determining 
qualities  are  not  the  ground  of  the  harmony,  but  merely  the 
road  by  which  we  proceed  to  that  ground.  If  this  is  so,  it 
is  natural  that  they  should  bear  no  more  necessary  proportion 
to  the  harmony  than  the  intrinsic  value  of  the  key  of  a  safe 
does  to  the  value  of  the  gold  inside  the  safe. 

Another  characteristic  of  love  is  the  manner  in  which 
reference  to  the  object  tends  to  become  equivalent  to  reference 
to  self.  We  have  seen  above  that  all  volition  implies  a  self- 
reference,  that,  however  disinterested  the  motive,  it  can  only 
form  part  of  our  life  in  so  far  as  the  self  finds  its  good  in 
it.  Now  here  we  come  across  a  state  of  spirit  in  which  the 
value  of  truth  and  virtue  for  us  seems  to  depend  on  the  existence 
of  another  person,  in  the  same  way  as  it  unquestionably 
depends  for  us  on  our  own  existence.  And  this  not  because 
the  other  person  is  specially  interested  in  truth  and  virtue,  but 
because  all  our  interest  in  the  universe  is  conceived  as  deriving 
force  from  his  existence. 

297.  And  a  third  point  which  denotes  that  the  interest 
is  emphatically  personal  is  found  in  our  attitude  when  we 
discover  that  the  relation  has  been  based  on  some  special 
congruity  which  has  ceased  to  exist,  or  which  was  wrongly 
believed  in,  and  never  really  existed  at  all.  In  knowledge 
and  volition  such  a  discovery  would  put  an  end  to  the  relation 
altogether.    To  go  on  beUeving  that  a  thing  was  rational  or 


280    THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

satisfactory,  because  it  was  so  once,  or  because  we  once  believed 
that  it  was  so,  would  be  immediately  recognized  as  an  ab- 
surdity. If  the  cause  of  the  harmony  ceases,  the  harmony 
ceases  too.  But  here  the  case  is  different.  If  once  the  relation 
has  existed,  any  disharmony  among  the  qualities  need  not,  and, 
we  feel,  ought  not,  to  injure  the  harmony  between  the  persons. 
If  a  person  proves  irrational  or  imperfect,  this  may  make  us 
miserable  about  him.  It  may  make  us  blame  him,  or,  more 
probably,  make  us  blame  God,  or  whatever  substitute  for  God 
our  religion  may  allow  us.  But  it  will  not  make  us  less 
interested  in  him,  it  will  not  make  us  less  confident  that 
our  relation  to  him  is  the  meaning  of  our  existence,  less 
compelled  to  view  the  universe  sub  specie  amati.  As  well 
might  any  imperfection  or  sin  in  our  nature  render  us  less 
interested  in  our  own  condition,  or  convince  us  that  it  was 
unimportant  to  ourselves. 

It  often  happens,  of  course,  that  such  a  strain  is  too  hard 
for  affection,  and  destroys  it.  But  the  distinction  is  that, 
while  such  a  result  would  be  the  only  proper  and  natural 
one  in  knowledge  and  volition,  it  is  felt  here  as  a  condemnation. 
Knowledge  and  volition  ought  to  yield.  But  love,  we  feel,  if 
it  had  been  strong  enough,  might  have  resisted,  and  ought 
to  have  resisted. 

298.  It  would  seem,  then,  that  we  have  here  reached  a 
standpoint  from  which  we  are  able  to  regard  the  object  as 
it  regards  itself.  We  are  able  to  regard  the  history  and  content 
of  the  object  as  a  manifestation  of  its  individuality,  instead  of 
being  obliged  to  regard  the  individuality  as  a  dead  residuum  in 
which  the  content  inheres.  We  are  able  to  see  the  object  from 
within  outwards,  instead  of  from  without  inwards.  And  so 
its  claims  to  independence  and  substantiality  become  no  more 
alien  or  inharmonious  to  us  than  our  own. 

This  recognition  of  the  independence  of  the  object  is 
absolute.  In  knowledge  and  volition  that  independence  was 
recognized  to  some  extent.  In  volition,  in  particular,  and 
more  especially  in  those  higher  stages  in  which  vohtion  be- 
comes moral,  we  saw  that  our  own  satisfaction  depends  on 
realising    the    independence   and   the   rights   of    others,    and 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE    281 

treating  them,  not  as  means,  but  as  ends.  But  the  reasons 
why  this  was  necessary  were  always  relative  to  our  own  self- 
reahsation.  Even  with  virtue,  the  ultimate  ground  of  each 
man's  choice  of  it  must  always  be  that  he  prefers  it  to  vice. 
And  hence  this  recognition  as  end  was  itself  a  subordination 
as  means,  and  the  absolute  assertion  of  itself  as  end,  which 
the  object  itself  made,  continued  to  be  something  alien  and 
inharmonious. 

The  position  here  is  different.  The  subject  is  no  longer 
in  the  same  position  of  one-sided  supremacy.  In  knowledge 
and  volition  it  exists  as  a  centre  of  which  the  world  of  objects 
is  the  circumference.  This  relation  continues,  for  without  it 
our  self-consciousness  and  our  existence  would  disappear.  But 
conjoined  with  it  we  have  now  the  recognition  of  the  fact  that 
we  ourselves  form  part  of  the  circumference  of  other  systems 
of  which  other  individuals  are  the  centre.  We  know  of  course 
that  this  must  be  so.  But  it  is  only  in  love  that  it  actually 
takes  place.  We  are  not  only  part  of  someone  else's  world 
in  his  eyes,  but  in  our  own.  And  we  feel  that  this  dependence 
on  another  is  as  directly  and  truly  self-reaHsation  as  is  the 
dependence  of  others  on  us.  All  through  hfe  self-surrender 
is  the  condition  of  self-attainment.  Here,  for  the  first  time, 
they  become  identical.  The  result  seems,  no  doubt,  paradoxical. 
But  any  change  which  made  it  simpler  would  render  it,  I 
think,  less  correspondent  to  facts.  And  if,  as  I  have  en- 
deavoured to  show,  knowledge  and  voHtion  carry  in  them 
defects  which  prevent  our  regarding  them  as  ultimate,  we 
need  not  be  alarmed  for  our  formula  of  the  Absolute,  because 
it  appears  paradoxical  to  them.  It  would  be  in  greater  danger 
if  they  could  fully  acquiesce  in  it. 

With  such  a  formula  our  difficulties  cease.  Here  we  have 
perfect  unity  between  subject  and  object,  since  it  is  in  the 
whole  object,  and  not  merely  in  some  elements  of  it,  that  we 
find  satisfaction.  And,  for  the  same  reason,  the  object  attains 
its  rights  in  the  way  of  complete  differentiation,  since  we  are 
able,  now  that  we  are  in  unity  with  the  whole  of  it,  to  recognize 
it  as  a  true  individual.  Again,  even  unmeaning  doubts  of  the 
completeness  and  security  of  the  harmony  between  subject  and 


282    THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

object  must  now  vanish,  since  not  even  an  abstraction  is  left 
over  as  alien,  on  which  scepticism  could  fix  as  a  possible  centre 
of  discord. 

299.  There  is  a  third  line  of  argument  which  can  lead  us 
to  the  same  conclusion.  We  have  seen  that  the  nature  of  each 
individual  consists  in  certain  relations  to  other  individuals. 
This  view  must  not  be  confounded  with  that  suggested  by  Green, 
that  "for  the  only  kind  of  consciousness  for  which  there  is 
reality,  the  conceived  conditions  are  the  reality^."  For  there  is 
all  the  difference  possible  between  attempting  to  reduce  one 
side  of  an  opposition  to  the  other,  and  asserting,  as  we  have 
done,  that  the  two  sides  are  completely  fused  in  a  unity  which 
is  more  than  either  of  them. 

Experience  can  be  analysed  into  two  abstract,  and  therefore 
imperfect,  moments — the  immediate  centres  of  differentiation 
and  the  relations  which  unite  and  mediate  them.  The  extreme 
atomistic  view  takes  the  immediate  centres  as  real,  and  the 
mediating  relations  as  unreal.  The  view  quoted  by  Green,  as 
extreme  on  the  other  side,  takes  the  relations  as  real  and  the 
centres  as  unreal.  The  view  of  the  dialectic,  on  the  contrary, 
accepts  both  elements  as  real,  but  asserts  that  neither  has  any 
separate  reality,  because  each  is  only  a  moment  of  the  true 
reality.  Reality  consists  of  immediate  centres  which  are 
mediated  by  relations.  The  imperfection  of  language  compels 
us  to  state  this  proposition  in  a  form  which  suggests  that  the 
immediacy  and  the  mediation  are  different  realities  which  only 
influence  one  another  externally.  But  this  ]s  not  the  case. 
They  are  only  two  sides  of  the  same  reahty.  And  thus  we  are 
entitled  to  say  that  the  whole  nature  of  the  centres  is  to  be 
found  in  their  relations.  But  we  are  none  the  less  entitled  to 
say  that  the  whole  nature  of  the  relations  is  to  be  found  in  the 
centres. 

300.  Now  it  is  clear  that  each  individual  must  have  a 
separate  and  unique  nature  of  its  own.  If  it  had  not,  it  could 
never  be  differentiated  from  all  the  other  individuals,  as  we 
know  that  it  is  differentiated.  At  the  same  time  the  nature  of 
the  individuals  lies  wholly  in  their  connections  with  one  another ; 

1  Works,  11.  191. 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE    283 

it  is  expressed  nowhere  else,  and  there  it  is  expressed  fully.  It 
follows  that  the  separate  and  unique  nature  of  each  individual 
must  be  found  only,  and  be  found  fully,  in  its  connections  with 
other  individuals — in  the  fact,  that  is,  that  all  the  other  indi- 
viduals are  for  it. 

This  must  not  be  taken  to  mean  that  the  connection  is  the 
logical  prius  of  the  individual  nature — that  the  latter  is  in  any 
sense  the  consequent  or  the  result  of  the  former.  Nor  does  it 
mean  that  the  individual  natures  could  be  explained  or  deduced 
from  the  fact  of  connection.  Such  views  would  be  quite  contrary 
to  Hegel's  principles.  His  position  is  essentially  that  reality  is 
a  differentiated  unity,  and  that  either  the  differentiation  or  the 
unity  by  itself  is  a  mere  abstraction.  And  it  would  be  contrary 
to  all  the  lessons  of  the  dialectic  if  we  supposed  that  one 
moment  of  a  concrete  whole  could  be  either  caused  or  explained 
by  the  other  moment.  It  is  the  concrete  reality  which  must  be 
alike  the  ground  and  the  explanation  of  its  moments. 

What  we  have  to  maintain  here  is  not  that  the  characters 
of  the  individuals  are  dependent  on  their  connections,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  that  the  characters  and  the  connections  are  com- 
pletely united.  The  character  of  the  individual  is  expressed 
completely  in  its  connections  with  others,  and  exists  nowhere 
else.  On  the  other  hand  the  connections  are  to  be  found  in 
the  nature  of  the  individuals  they  connect,  and  nowhere  else, 
and  not  merely  in  the  common  nature  which  the  individuals 
share,  but  in  that  special  and  unique  nature  which  distinguishes 
one  individual  from  another. 

This  completes  our  definition  of  the  Absolute  Idea.  Not 
only  has  the  nature  of  each  individual  to  be  found  in  the  fact 
that  all  the  rest  are  for  it,  but  the  nature  which  is  to  be  found 
in  this  recognition  must  be  something  unique  and  distinguishing 
for  each  individual.  The  whole  difference  of  each  individual  from 
the  others  has  to  be  contained  in  its  harmony  with  the  others. 

We  need  not  be  alarmed  at  the  apparently  paradoxical 
appearance  of  this  definition.  For  all  through  the  doctrine 
of  the  Notion,  and  especially  in  the  Idea,  our  categories  have 
been  paradoxical  to  the  ordinary  understanding.  Even  if  we 
could  find  nothing  in  experience  which  exphcitly  embodied  this 


284    THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

category,  we  should  not  have  any  right,  on  that  ground,  to 
doubt  its  validity.  If  the  arguments  which  have  conducted  us 
to  it  are  vaHd,  we  shall  be  compelled  to  believe  that  this,  and 
this  only,  is  the  true  nature  of  absolute  reality.  The  only  effect 
of  the  want  of  an  example  would  be  our  inability  to  form  a 
mental  picture  of  what  absolute  reality  would  be  like. 

301.  I  believe,  however,  that  we  can  find  an  example 
of  this  category  in  experience.  It  seems  to  me  that  perfect 
love  would  give  such  an  example,  and  that  we  should  thus  find 
additional  support  for  the  conclusion  already  reached. 

It  is  clear,  in  the  first  place,  that  our  example  must  be  some 
form  of  consciousness.  For  the  nature  of  the  individual  is  still 
to  have  all  reality  for  it,  and  of  this  idea,  as  we  have  seen,  we 
can  imagine  no  embodiment  but  consciousness. 

Knowledge,  however,  ^^dll  not  be  what  is  required.  We 
want  a  state  such  that  the  individuals'  recognition  of  their 
harmony  with  one  another  shall  itself  constitute  the  separate 
nature  of  each  individual.  In  knowledge  the  individual  recog- 
nizes his  harmony  with  others,  but  this  is  not  sufiicient  to 
constitute  his  separate  nature.  It  is  true  that  knowledge 
not  only  permits,  but  requires,  the  differentiation  of  the  indi- 
viduals. Nothing  buo  an  individual  can  have  knowledge,  and 
if  the  individuals  were  merged  in  an  undifferentiated  whole, 
the  knowledge  would  vanish.  Moreover,  in  proportion  as  the 
knowledge  of  a  knowing  being  becomes  wider  and  deeper, 
and  links  him  more  closely  to  the  rest  of  reality,  so  does  his 
individuality  become  greater.  But  although  the  individuality 
and  the  knowledge  are  so  closely  linked,  they  are  not  identical. 
The  individuahty  cannot  lie  in  the  knowledge.  Men  may,  no 
doubt,  be  distinguished  from  one  another  by  what  they  know, 
and  how  they  know  it.  But  such  distinction  depends  on  the 
limitations  and  imperfections  of  knowledge.  A  knows  X,  and 
B  knows  Y.  Or  else  A  believes  X^  to  be  the  truth,  while  B 
believes  the  same  of  X2.  But  for  an  example  of  a  category  of 
the  Idea  we  should  have,  as  we  have  seen  above,  to  take  perfect 
cognition.  Now  if  A  and  B  both  knew  X  as  it  really  is,  this 
would  give  no  separate  nature  to  A  and  B.  And  if  we  took,  as 
we  must  take,  X  to  stand  for  all  reahty,  and  so  came  to  the 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE    285 

conclusion  that  the  nature  of  A  and  B  hiy  in  knowing  the  same 
subject-matter,  knowing  it  perfectly,  and,  therefore,  knowing 
it  in  exactly  the  same  way,  we  should  have  failed  to  find 
that  separate  nature  for  A  and  B  which  we  have  seen  to  be 
necessary. 

Nor  can  our  example  be  found  in  volition.  Perfect  volition 
would  mean  perfect  acquiescence  in  everything.  Now  men  can 
be  easily  differentiated  by  the  fact  that  they  acquiesce  in 
different  things.  So  they  can  be  differentiated  by  the  fact  that 
they  acquiesce  in  different  sides  of  the  same  thing — in  other 
words,  approve  of  the  same  thing  for  different  reasons.  Thus 
one  man  may  approve  of  an  auto  da  fe  on  the  ground  that 
it  gives  pain  to  the  heretics  who  are  burned,  and  another 
may  approve  of  it  on  the  ground  that  it  gives  pleasure  to  the 
orthodox  who  look  on.  But  there  can  only  be  one  way  of  acqui- 
escing in  the  whole  nature  of  any  one  thing,  and  only  one  way, 
therefore,  of  acquiescing  in  the  whole  nature  of  everything, 
and  the  ground  of  differentiation  is  consequently  wanting. 

302.  The  only  form  of  consciousness  which  remains  is 
emotion.  To  this  the  same  objections  do  not  seem  to  apply. 
Perfect  knowledge  of  X  must  be  the  same  in  A  and  B.  Perfect 
acquiescence  in  X  must  be  the  same  in  A  and  B.  But  I  do 
not  see  any  reason  why  perfect  love  of  X  should  be  the  same  in 
A  and  B,  or  why  it  should  not  be  the  differentiation  required 
to  make  A  and  B  perfect  individuals.  The  object  in  love  is 
neither  archetype,  as  in  knowledge,  nor  ectype,  as  in  volition, 
and  hence  there  is  no  contradiction  in  saying  that  love  of  the 
same  person  is  different  in  different  people,  and  yet  perfect  in 
both. 

303.  We  have  thus  been  led  by  three  lines  of  argument 
to  the  same  conclusion.  The  Absolute  can  only  be  perfectly 
manifested  in  a  state  of  consciousness  which  comphes  with 
three  conditions.  It  must  have  an  absolute  balance  between 
the  individual  for  whom  all  reality  exists,  and  the  reality 
which  is  for  it — neither  being  subordinated  to  the  other,  and 
the  harmony  being  ultimate.  It  must  be  able  to  establish 
such  a  unity  between  the  self  and  the  not-self,  that  the  latter 
loses  all  appearance  of  contingency  and  alienation.   And,  finally, 


286    THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

in  it  the  separate  and  unique  nature  of  each  individual  must 
be  found  in  its  connections  with  other  individuals.  We  have 
found  that  knowledge  and  volition  comply  with  none  of  these 
conditions.  There  remains  only  one  other  alternative  at  present 
known  to  us — love.  I  have  tried  to  show  that  in  this  case  all 
three  conditions  are  fulfilled. 

304.  One  or  two  points  require  further  explanation.  It  is 
no  doubt  true  that  love,  as  we  now  know  it,  never  exists  as  the 
whole  content  of  consciousness.  Its  value,  and  indeed  its 
possibility,  depends  on  its  springing  from,  being  surrounded  by, 
and  resulting  in,  acts  of  knowledge  and  volition  which  remain 
such,  and  do  not  pass  into  a  higher  stage.  This  however  is 
only  a  characteristic  of  an  imperfect  state  of  development.  At 
present  there  is  much  of  reality  whose  spiritual  nature  we  are 
unable  to  detect.  And  when  we  do  recognize  a  self-conscious 
individual  we  can  only  come  into  relation  with  him  in  so  far  as 
that  other  reality,  still  conceived  as  matter,  which  we  call  our 
bodies,  can  be  made  instrumental  to  our  purposes.  And  finally, 
even  when  we  have  recognized  reality  as  spirit,  the  imperfection 
of  our  present  knowledge  leaves  a  large  number  of  its  qualities 
apparently  contingent  and  irrational.  Thus  every  case  in  which 
we  have  established  a  personal  relation  must  be  surrounded  by 
large  numbers  of  others  in  which  we  have  not  done  so.  And 
as  all  reality  is  inter-connected,  the  estabhshment  and  main- 
tenance of  this  relation  must  be  connected  with,  and  dependent 
on,  the  imperfect  relations  into  which  we  come  with  the 
surrounding  reality.  And,  again,  the  same  inter-connection 
brings  it  about  that  the  harmony  with  any  one  object  can 
never  be  perfect,  till  the  harmony  with  all  other  objects  is  so. 
Thus  our  relations  with  any  one  object  could  never  be  com- 
pletely absorbed  in  love — leaving  no  knowledge  and  volition 
un transcended — until  the  same  result  was  universally  attained. 

But  there  is  no  reason  why  it  should  not  be  attained 
completely,  if  attained  universally.  It  is  entitled  to  stand  by 
itself,  for  it  is,  as  we  have  seen,  self-contained.  It  does  not 
require  a  reference  to  some  correlative  and  opposed  activity  to 
make  its  own  nature  inteUigible,  and  it  does  not  require  any 
recognition  of  the  possibility  of  discord.    It  is  the  simple  and 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE    287 

absolute  expression  of  harmony,  and,  when  once  the  harmony 
of  the  whole  universe  has  become  explicit,  it  is  capable  of 
expressing  the  meaning  of  the  whole  universe. 

305.  Before  this  ideal  could  be  attained,  it  is  clear  that 
sense-presentation,  as  a  method  of  obtaining  our  knowledge  of 
the  object,  would  have  to  cease.  For  sense-presentation  can 
only  give  us  consciousness  of  reality  under  the  form  of  matter, 
and  in  doing  this,  it  clearly  falls  short  of  the  perfect  harmony, 
since  it  presents  reality  in  an  imperfect  and  inadequate  form. 

There  seems  no  reason  why  the  fact  of  sense-presentation 
should  be  regarded  as  essential  to  consciousness.  Our  senses 
may  be  indispensable  to  knowledge  while  much  of  the  reality, 
of  which  we  desire  to  be  informed,  still  takes  the  shape  of 
matter,  and  the  rest  is  only  known  to  us  in  so  far  as  it  acts 
through  material  bodies.  But  it  seems  quite  possible  that  the 
necessity,  to  which  spirits  are  at  present  subject,  of  communi- 
cating with  one  another  through  matter,  only  exists  because 
the  matter  happens  to  be  in  the  way.  In  that  case,  when  the 
whole  universe  is  viewed  as  spirit,  so  that  nothing  relatively 
alien  could  come  between  one  individual  and  another,  the 
connection  between  spirits  might  very  possibly  be  direct. 

306.  Another  characteristic  of  a  perfect  manifestation  of 
the  Absolute  is  that  it  must  be  timeless.  In  this,  again,  I  can 
see  no  difficulty.  If,  in  love,  we  are  able  to  come  into  contact 
with  the  object  as  it  really  is,  we  shall  find  no  disconnected 
manifold.  The  object  is,  of  course,  not  a  mere  blank  unity.  It 
is  a  unity  which  manifests  itself  in  multiplicity.  But  the 
multiplicity  only  exists  in  so  far  as  it  is  contained  in  the 
unity.  And,  since  the  object  has  thus  a  real  unity  of  its  own, 
it  might  be  possible  to  apprehend  the  whole  of  it  at  once,  and 
not  to  require  that  successive  apprehension,  which  the  synthesis 
of  a  manifold,  originally  given  as  unconnected,  would  always 
require. 

It  is  true,  of  course,  that  we  cannot  conceive  the  Absolute 
as  connection  with  a  single  other  person,  but  rather,  directly  or 
indirectly,  with  all  others.  But  we  must  remember,  again,  that 
all  reality  must  be  conceived  as  in  perfect  unity,  and,  therefore, 
individuals  must  be  conceived  as  forming,  not  a  mere  aggregate 


288    THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

or  mechanical  system,  but  a  whole  which  only  difiers  from  an 
organism  in  being  a  closer  and  more  vital  unity  than  any 
organism  can  be.  The  various  individuals,  then,  must  be  con- 
ceived as  forming  a  difierentiated  and  multiplex  whole,  but  by 
no  means  as  an  unconnected  manifold.  It  might  therefore 
be  practicable  to  dispense  with  successive  acts  of  apprehension 
in  contemplating  the  complete  whole  of  the  universe,  as  much 
as  in  contemplating  the  relative  whole  of  a  single  individual. 
And  in  that  case  there  would  be  no  reason  why  the  highest  form 
of  spirit  should  not  be  free  from  succession,  and  from  time. 

I  should  be  inclined  to  say,  personally,  that,  even  at  present, 
the  idea  of  timeless  emotion  is  one  degree  less  unintelligible 
than  that  of  timeless  knowledge  and  volition — that  the  most 
intense  emotion  has  some  power  of  making  time  seem,  if  not 
unreal,  at  any  rate  excessively  unimportant,  which  does  not 
belong  to  any  other  form  of  mental  activity.  But  this  is  a 
matter  of  introspection  which  every  person  must  decide  for 
himself. 

How  such  great  and  fundamental  changes  are  to  be  made — 
how  knowledge  and  volition  are  to  pass  into  love,  and  a  life  in 
time  into  timelessness — may  well  perplex  us.  Even  if  we  see 
the  necessity  of  the  transition,  the  manner  in  which  it  is  to  be 
effected  would  remain  mysterious.  But  all  such  transitions,  we 
may  reflect,  must  necessarily  appear  mysterious  till  they  have 
taken  place.  The  transition  is  from  two  relatively  abstract  ideas 
to  a  more  comprehensive  idea  which  synthesises  them.  Till  the 
synthesis  has  taken  place  the  abstractions  have  not  yet  lost  the 
false  appearance  of  substantiality  and  independence  which  they 
acquired  by  their  abstraction  from  the  whole.  Till  the  synthesis 
has  taken  place,  therefore,  the  process  by  which  the  two  sides 
lose  their  independence  must  appear  something,  which,  though 
inevitable,  is  also  inexplicable.  It  is  not  till  the  change  has 
been  made  that  we  are  able  to  realise  fully  that  all  the  meaning 
of  the  lower  lay  in  the  higher,  and  that  what  has  been  lost  was 
nothing  but  delusion.  So,  in  this  case,  we  must  remember  that 
we  are  not  constructing  love  out  of  knowledge  and  volition,  but 
merely  clearing  away  the  mistakes  which  presented  love  to  us 
in  the  form  of  knowledge  and  volition. 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE    289 

307.  It  may  be  said  that  the  extent  and  intensity  in  which 
love  enters  into  a  man's  life  is  not  a  fair  test  of  his  perfection. 
We  consider  some  people  who  have  comparatively  little  of  it  as 
far  higher  than  others  who  have  much.  And  again — and  this 
is  perhaps  a  more  crucial  instance — we  find  cases  in  which  we 
regard  as  a  distinct  advance  a  change  in  a  man's  life  which 
diminishes  his  devotion  to  individuals  in  comparison  with  his 
ardour  for  abstract  truth  or  abstract  virtue. 

The  existence  of  such  cases  cannot  be  denied,  but  need  not, 
I  think,  be  considered  incompatible  with  what  has  been  said. 
Any  harmony  which  we  can  attain  at  present  must  be  very 
imperfect,  and  postulates  its  own  completion,  at  once  because 
of  its  partial  success  and  of  its  partial  failure.  Now  the  principle 
of  the  dialectic  is  that  spirit  cannot  advance  in  a  straight  line, 
but  is  compelled  to  tack  from  side  to  side,  emphasising  first  one 
aspect  of  the  truth,  and  then  its  complementary  and  contrary 
aspect,  and  then  finding  the  harmony  between  them.  In  so  far, 
then,  as  the  harmony  is  at  any  time  imperfect,  because  it  has 
not  fully  grasped  the  opposites  to  be  reconciled,  it  can  only 
advance  by  first  grasping  them,  and  then  reconciling  them. 
The  difference  must  be  first  recognized,  and  then  conquered, 
and  between  the  first  stage  and  the  second  the  harmony  will  be 
impaired.  The  opposition  may  be  between  the  abstract  gene- 
rality of  religion  and  the  abstract  particularity  of  passion,  it 
may  be  between  the  abstract  submission  of  the  search  for  truth 
and  the  abstract  assertion  of  the  search  for  good,  it  may  be 
between  abstract  intensity  deficient  in  breadth  and  abstract 
extension  deficient  in  depth.  When  any  of  these  divisions 
happen  the  harmony  will  be  broken,  and  yet  the  change  will 
be  an  advance,  since  we  shall  have  entered  on  the  only  path  by 
which  the  harmony  can  be  perfected.  In  that  harmony  alone 
we  live.  But  here,  as  everywhere  in  this  imperfect  world, 
the  old  paradox  holds  good.  Only  he  who  loses  his  life  shall 
find  it. 

308.  The  love  of  which  we  speak  here  cannot  be  what  is 
generally  called  love  of  God,  For  love  is  of  persons,  and  God, 
as  we  have  seen,  is  a  unity  of  persons,  but  not  a  personal  unity. 
Nor  can  we  say  that  it  is  God  that  we  love  in  man.    It  is  no 

MCT.  19 


290    THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

more  the  merely  divine  than  the  merely  human.  The  incar- 
nation is  not  here  a  divine  condescension,  as  in  some  religious 
systems.  The  abstractly  universal  is  as  much  below  the  concrete 
individual  as  is  the  abstractly  particular,  and  it  is  the  concrete 
individual  which  alone  can  give  us  what  we  seek  for. 

Again,  though  difierentiation  has  no  right  as  against  the 
concrete  whole,  it  is  independent  as  against  the  element  of 
unity.  And,  therefore,  if  we  could  come  into  relation  with  the 
element  of  unity  as  such,  it  would  not  connect  us  with  the 
difEerentiated  parts  of  the  universe,  and  could  not  therefore  be 
a  relation  adequately  expressing  all  reality. 

We  can,  if  we  choose,  say  that  our  love  is  m  God,  meaning 
thereby  that  it  cannot,  at  its  highest,  be  conceived  as  m'erely 
subjective  and  capricious,  but  that  it  expresses  the  order  of  the 
universe,  and  is  conscious  that  it  does  so.  It  -is  more  than 
religion,  but  it  must  include  religion.  But  this  is  not  love  of 
God.  The  relation  is  between  persons,  and  God  is  conceived 
only  as  the  unity  in  which  they  exist. 

309.  If  we  cannot,  properly  speaking,  love  God,  it  is  still 
more  impossible  to  love  mankind.  For  mankind  is  an  abstraction 
too,  and  a  far  more  superficial  abstraction.  If  God  was  only  an 
abstraction  of  the  element  of  unity,  at  least  he  was  an  abstrac- 
tion of  the  highest  and  most  perfect  unity,  able  to  fuse  into  a 
whole  the  highest  and  most  perfect  difierentiation.  But  man- 
kind represents  a  far  less  vital  unity.  It  is  a  common  quality  of 
individuals,  but  not,  conceived  merely  as  mankind,  a  living 
unity  between  them.  The  whole  nature  of  the  individual  lies 
in  his  being  a  manifestation  of  God.  But  the  unity  of  mankind 
is  not  a  principle  of  which  all  the  differences  of  individual  men 
are  manifestations.  The  human  race,  viewed  as  such,  is  only 
an  aggregate,  not  even  an  organism.  We  might  as  well  try  to 
love  an  indefinitely  extended  Post  Office  Directory.  And  the 
same  will  hold  true  of  all  subordinate  aggregates — nations, 
churches,  and  families. 

310.  I  have  been  using  the  word  love,  in  this  chapter,  in 
the  meaning  which  is  given  to  it  in  ordinary  life — as  meaning 
the  emotion  which  joins  two  particular  persons  together,  and 
which  never,  in  our  experience,  unites  one  person  with  more 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE    291 

than  a  few  others.  This,  as  we  have  seen,  was  also  Hegel's  use 
of  the  word^.  At  the  same  time  we  must  guard  against  con- 
founding it  with  the  special  forms  which  it  assumes  at  present. 
At  present  it  makes  instruments  of  sexual  desire,  of  the  con- 
nection of  marriage,  or  of  the  connection  of  blood.  But  these 
cannot  be  the  ultimate  forms  under  which  love  is  manifested, 
since  they  depend  on  determining  causes  outside  love  itself. 
Love  for  which  any  cause  can  be  assigned  carries  the  marks  of 
its  own  incompleteness  upon  it.  For,  when  it  is  complete,  all 
relations,  all  reality,  will  have  been  transformed  into  it.  Thus 
there  will  be  nothing  left  outside  to  determine  it.  Love  is 
itself  the  relation  which  binds  individuals  together.  Each 
relation  it  establishes  is  part  of  the  ultimate  nature  of  the 
unity  of  the  whole.  It  does  not  require  or  admit  of  justification 
or  determination  by  anything  else.  It  is  itself  its  own  justifica- 
tion and  determination.  The  nearest  approach  to  it  we  can 
know  now  is  the  love  for  which  no  cause  can  be  given,  and 
which  is  not  determined  by  any  outer  relation,  of  which  we  can 
only  say  that  two  people  belong  to  each  other — the  love  of  the 
Vita  Nuova  and  of  In  Memoriam. 

311.  No  doubt  an  emotion  which  should  be  sufficient,  both 
in  extent  and  intensity,  to  grasp  the  entire  universe,  must  be 
different  in  degree  from  anything  of  which  we  can  now  have 
experience.  Yet  this  need  not  force  us  to  allow  any  essential 
difference  between  the  two,  if  the  distinction  is  one  of  degree, 
and  not  of  generic  change.  The  attempt  to  imagine  any  com- 
munion so  far-reaching — extending,  as  we  must  hold  it  to  do, 
to  all  reality  in  the  universe— is,  no  doubt,  depressing,  almost 
painful  2.  But  this  arises,  I  think,  from  the  inability,  under 
which  we  lie  at  present,  to  picture  the  ideal  except  under  the 
disguise  of  a  "false  infinite"  of  endless  succession.  However 
much  we  may  know  that  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  spiritual 
and  timeless,  we  cannot  help  imagining  it  as  in  time,  and  can 

1  Cp.  Sections  219,  220. 

2  I  see  no  necessity  for  considering  the  relations  between  each  individual 
and  all  the  others  to  be  direct.  It  would  seem  quite  as  possible  that  the 
relation  of  each  individual  to  the  majority  of  the  others  should  be  indirect,  and 
through  the  mediation  of  some  other  individuals. 


292    THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE 

scarcely  help  imagining  it  as  in  space  In  this  case  the 
magnitude  of  the  field  to  be  included  naturally  appears  as 
something  alien  and  inimical  to  our  power  of  including  it.  We 
are  forced,  too,  since  our  imagination  is  limited  by  the  stage  of 
development  in  which  we  at  present  are,  to  give  undue  import- 
ance to  the  question  of  number,  as  applied  to  the  individuals 
in  the  Absolute.  If  we  look  at  it  from  this  standpoint  the 
most  casual  contemplation  is  bewildering  and  crushing.  But 
number  is  a  very  inadequate  category.  Even  in  everyday  life 
we  may  see  how  number  falls  into  the  shade  as  our  knowledge 
of  the  subject-matter  increases.  Of  two  points  on  an  unlimited 
field  we  can  say  nothing  but  that  they  are  two  in  number. 
But  if  we  were  considering  the  relation  of  Hegel's  philosophy 
to  Kant's,  or  of  Dante  to  Beatrice,  the  advance  which  we  should 
make  by  counting  them  would  be  imperceptible.  When  every- 
thing is  seen  under  the  highest  category,  the  Absolute  Idea, 
this  process  would  be  complete.  All  lower  categories  would 
have  been  transcended,  and  all  separate  significance  of  number 
would  have  vanished.  And  with  it  would  vanish  the  dead 
weight  of  the  vastness  of  the  universe. 

We  must  remember  too,  once  more,  that  the  Absolute  is 
not  an  aggregate  but  a  system.  The  multiplicity  of  the  indi- 
viduals is  not,  therefore,  a  hindrance  in  the  way  of  estabhshing 
a  harmony  with  any  one  of  them,  as  might  be  the  case  if  each 
was  an  independent  rival  of  all  the  rest.  It  is  rather  to  be 
considered  as  an  assistance,  since  our  relations  with  each  will, 
through  their  mutual  connections,  be  strengthened  by  our  rela- 
tions to  all  the  rest. 

312.  The  conclusions  of  this  chapter  are,  no  doubt,  fairly 
to  be  called  mystical.  And  a  mysticism  which  ignored  the 
claims  of  the  understanding  would,  no  doubt,  be  doomed.  None 
ever  went  about  to  break  logic,  but  in  the  end  logic  broke  him. 
But  there  is  a  mysticism  which  starts  from  the  standpoint  of 
the  understanding,  and  only  departs  from  it  in  so  far  as  that 
standpoint  shows  itself  not  to  be  ultimate,  but  to  postulate 
.something  beyond  itself.  To  transcend  the  lower  is  not  to 
ignore  it.  And  it  is  only  in  this  sense  that  I  have  ventured  to 
indicate  the  possibility  of  finding,  above  all  knowledge  and 


THE  FURTHER  DETERMINATION  OF  THE  ABSOLUTE     293 

volition,  one  all-embracing  unity,  which  is  only  not  true,  only 
not  good,  because  all  truth  and  all  goodness  are  but  distorted 
shadows  of  its  absolute  perfection — "das  Unbegreifiiche,  weil 
es  der  BegrifE  selbst  ist." 


Note  to  Second  Edition 

I  do  not  now  think  that  the  arguments  to  prove  that  know- 
ledge and  volition  cannot  be  absolutely  real  (Sections  285-293) 
are  valid.  But  I  have  nob  omitted  them  because  I  still  think 
that  it  would  be  a  logical  consequence  of  Hegel's  position  in 
the  logic  that  knowledge  and  volition  could  not  be  absolutely 
real,  and  I  think  that  these  arguments  are  consistent  with  Hegel's 
views.  My  present  view  is  that  every  state  of  consciousness  in 
absolute  reality  is  a  state  ahke  of  knowledge,  of  volition  and 
of  love. 


CAMBRIDGE  :   PRINTED  BY 

J.  B.  PEACE,  M.A., 
AT  THE  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

STUDIES  IN  THE  HEGELIAN 
DIALECTIC 

Demy  8vo.     8s  net 

"Mr  M'^Taggart's  book  is  eminently  readable.  Its  style  is 
admirably  lucid,  crisp,  and  stimulating.  It  is  the  true  expression  of 
the  author's  mind,  which  is  ever  strenuously  logical  and  full  of  the 
originality  which  arises  from  exceptional  insight.  We  hope  that 
Mr  M'^Taggart  will  some  day  see  his  way  to  take  up  Hegel's  task 
anew  and  work  it  out  on  his  lines.  This  is  what  requires  to  be  done, 
and  no  one  is  more  capable  of  doing  it." — Cambridge  Review 

A  COMMENTARY  ON  HEGEL'S  LOGIC 

Demy  Svo.     8s  net 

"  Now  for  the  first  time  there  lies  before  the  reader,  in  lucid  and 
vigorous  English,  a  complete  and  careful  interpretation,  step  by  step, 
of  the  stages  of  the  philosophical  pilgrim's  progress,  as  Hegel  con- 
ceived it. . .  .The  present  work  affords  a  basis,  such  as  has  not  existed 
before,  for  the  effective  estimation  of  Hegel's  philosophy." — Mind 

"  One  of  the  most  incisive  and  brilliant  adventures  in  pure  thought 

that  has  appeared  for  many  years Dr  M<=Taggart's  language  is  as 

lucid  as  his  thought,  and  it  seems  not  improbable  that  Hegel  will 
eventually  be  chiefly  read  as  re-written  by  this  Cambridge  philo- 
sopher."— Contemporary  Review 

"  Mr  M'^Taggart's  commentary,  while  always  keenly  critical,  may 
be  described  as  a  reasoned  justification  of  its  author's  conviction  that 
Hegel  has  penetrated  further  into  the  true  nature  of  reahty  than 
any  philosopher  before  or  after  him.  It  follows  the  so-called  '  Greater 
Logic'  as  its  text,  and  will  be  found  serviceable  and  illuminative 
whether  as  an  account  of  that  work  for  those  who  cannot  read  it  in 
German,  or  as  an  aid  in  overcoming  the  philosophic  difficulties  that 
present  themselves  to  all  readers  of  the  original  text." — Scotsman 

Cambridge  University  Press 

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